


Just Like Heaven

by skargasm



Category: Just Like Heaven (2005), Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternate Universe - No Hale Fire (Teen Wolf), F/M, Films, Gen, M/M, Original Character(s), Past Jennifer Blake/Derek Hale, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-27
Updated: 2020-03-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:41:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 23,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22925836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skargasm/pseuds/skargasm
Summary: Derek Hale is a recently widowed architect moving into a new apartment in Beacon Hills. But the apartment isn’t entirely empty: it’s haunted by the ghost of a man called Stiles. And although Stiles can’t remember much about his life, he’s convinced he isn’t really dead. While Derek recruits Kira, an absent-minded psychic, to get to the bottom of Stiles’ identity, he and Stiles begin to fall in love.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 63
Kudos: 214





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is loosely based on the movie Just Like Heaven starring Mark Ruffalo and Reese Witherspoon. There will be the usual smushing of characters, partners and some de-aging (Lydia is one of Scott's daughters). It is currently a WiP so I understand if people want to wait until it's finished before they read it. 
> 
> As always, I use Grammarly to proofread and spellcheck my work, but if you see any errors please point them out to me.
> 
> * * *

[ ](https://imgur.com/yNmyhoT)


	2. Chapter 2

Stiles yawned as he looked up at the nurse. 

“How long was I out?”

“About six minutes.”

“Well, at least that explains why my eyelids feel like concrete.” He yawned again, stretching towards the ceiling. “Okay, I’ll be right out.” He took some time to splash water on his face before he left the break room, heading towards the nurses' station.

“Hey, Dr Stilinski.”

“Hey, Fran. How goes it with my favourite nurse?”

“I’m only your favourite nurse because I’m the only one who puts up with your shit!”

“You wound me!”

“How long you been on?”

“Umm – twenty-three.”

“Twenty three?” Stiles winced at how high her voice went. “Knowing you, more like twenty-four. Time to go home, Stiles.”

“That’s not gonna get me an attending slot.”

“Neither will dropping down dead with exhaustion.”

“Well, that’s just not cheerful.”

“Oh shut up! Trauma 2.”

“On it.” The next couple of hours passed in a blur of patients and Stiles didn’t get a chance for another nap. He did get two marriage proposals and was flashed by Mr Keurig who insisted on sneaking out of his room and liked to run around naked.

In the middle of grabbing his third (or was it fourth?) cup of espresso, his cell went off.

“Hey, Scotty.”

“Are you coming?”

“YESSS! I said I would and I am.”

“Well, good. Because you seriously need to get out of that hospital and see some daylight.” There was some clattering that was no doubt, Scott, dropping something. “And besides, this guy is great.”

“You met him? Is he there?”

“Well, I haven’t actually met him in person.”

“Scott – you’re setting me up with a stranger?”

“He’s a friend of a friend. He’s really nice.”

“How would you know?” Stiles grumbled. “He could be curmudgeonly. Or have a really good sense of humour. Or he could be a troll.”

“Stiles! It wasn’t exactly easy to get this guy to come. He doesn’t generally do this kind of thing either.” More clattering then muttered cursing. “Do you girls **have** to do that here? It’s not like we don’t have six other rooms you could do that in. Help Daddy out!”

“Scott – “

“I’m in the seventh circle of hell here, dude. You better show up.”

“It’s just – I’m really busy.”

“Listen, Stiles, beggars can’t be choosers.”

“Excuse you, I am perfectly capable of meeting men on my own.”

“I know, I know, I’d just like you to meet one who’s not bleeding or in the bathroom of a club.”

“I’ll have you know, I’ve had three marriage proposals today.” Stiles sighed, seeing Mr Keurig wander out of his room again. “Okay, it was really only two. I gotta go. I’ll see you at seven.”

“It’s already seven.”

“Thirty. I meant seven-thirty.” He changed the subject quickly to cover his error. “What are you making?”

“Mom’s lasagne, and if you’re late the girls will eat your share.”

“Tell my adorable nieces to keep their mitts off.”

“Okay – I gotta go. Erica just ran out of the kitchen with glue which doesn’t bode well.” Scott hung up unceremoniously and Stiles smiled at the chaos of his brother’s life. The smile turned into a scowl as Dr Whittemore and Harris walked by, deep in conversation. 

Jackson Whittemore was his main competition for the attending spot and never let an opportunity go by to try to show Stiles up in front of Finstock. Harris was the Hospital Administrator who seemed to hate Stiles with a passion with no reason that Stiles could fathom. Jackson was talking about using the attending position as a stepping stone to move to plastic surgery, which didn’t surprise Stiles in the slightest. Dr Finstock came out of the lift, a nurse walking to him immediately.

“Dr Finstock – gunshot victim. Internal haemorrhaging.”

Without a word, Stiles and Jackson both stepped up in front of Dr Finstock. Finstock turned to Jackson. 

“How long have you been here?”

“Twelve hours.” He nodded and turned to Stiles.

“You?”

Stiles grimaced before admitting the truth, knowing what it would mean.

“A little more.”

“Alright, Jackson.”

“I’ll scrub in.” Jackson sent Stiles a triumphant look before walking away and Stiles scowled. Nodding his head with resignation, Stiles turned to head back to the nurses' station.

“Bilinski.”

“Yes, sir?”

“I was going to wait until tomorrow but I wanted you to know that I’ve made my decision. I want you to stay on as an attending physician.”

“Really? Thank you!” Unable to contain himself, Stiles threw his arms around Finstock’s neck.

“Hey, hey! Hands off!”

“Sorry, sir. Thank you, sir.”

“Don’t thank me – you’ve earned it. Unlike some others, you spend more time concerned about the well-being of the patients than kissing my ass. A risky move, but I like it.”

“Sir – I cannot thank you enough for the opportunity! There’s so much I want to do here. I can’t wait to get started.”

“Bilinski?”

“Yes, sir?”

“The only thing I want you to do right now is to go home.”

“But, sir, I have – “”

“Go! You’ve been here for twenty-six hours.” Stiles was shocked, unable to keep the expression off his face. “I know all.” Finstock walked off without another word and Stiles did a little dance of joy.

“Dr Stilinski.” Halting his dance, Stiles tried to put a professional look on his face. 

“Yeah?”

“I have a bowel obstruction in eight. Well, at least I think that’s what it is. Would you be able to take a quick look?”

“Yeah, sure thing.”

* * *

He was tiredly pulling on his jacket in the break room when Jackson came in. 

“Jackson.”

“Congratulations.”

“Thank you. I didn’t know Finstock was gonna – “

“I have an offer in Phoenix. Life’s good.”

“Well – good. That’s great. Great.”

“Yeah.” Grabbing a coffee, Jackson left. Suddenly really wanting to see his family and share his good news with someone who would be pleased for him, Stiles grabbed the rest of his gear and headed out. Setting up his hands-free as he pulled out of the hospital car park, he dialled Scott.

“Hey Scott, it’s me.”

“Funnily enough, your name came up on my cell! If you’re calling to cancel – “

“No, no! I’m sorry I’m late but I’m on my way.”

“Don’t worry – your date’s late too.”

“Listen, Scotty, I have great news. I got the attending position – I’m staying in Beacon Hills.”

“Really? Oh shit, that’s fantastic! The girls are gonna be so stoked – they will love having their uncle Stiles around! We are breaking out the champagne tonight – get your ass over here!”

“I’ll be there in a few. Bye.” Pressing end call, Stiles smiled, just before a light blinded him.

* * *


	3. The Perfect Apartment

Derek stepped further into the room as Erica Reyes, his estate agent, stepped back so that he could get a good look at everything. There was blessed silence for a few moments before Erica started her spiel. 

“This place is heaven. It’s been photographed for magazines.” Derek looked around, not seeing anything particularly heavenly about it. 

“Yeah, I think I told you I was gonna need something furnished.” Erica looked surprised at his comment. 

“Well, it is furnished.”

“Then where’s the couch?” Erica looked over at the delicate-looking love-seat that was masquerading as a couch before she scowled and marched out of the room. Smiling softly to himself, Derek followed.

* * *

“Do you believe all of this space?” Derek looked around at the empty loft, eyebrows raising at the echo of Erica’s voice in the hollow space. He might not be looking to put down permanent roots but he wanted something a little more homely than this.

“Yeah, it’s great. It’ll be an excellent space for all the raves I’ll be throwing for the kids of Beacon Hills.”

“I’m sensing a no.” With a shrug, Derek followed Erica out of the loft.

* * *

“Wow, huh?” Erica spun in place, arms gesturing to the minimalistic space. “This space isn’t usually available but the couple who own it are spending all of their time in Palm Springs now.”

She looked at his face, obviously aware that he wasn’t impressed.

“Derek – I’m not sure what you’re looking for. Perhaps if you would open up more – maybe give me a clue.” She gave a heavy sigh. “Maybe if you could let me know a bit more about what’s going on with you – with your job, your family situation. Boyd didn’t really say much.”

“I don’t want to talk about that.”

“Fine, okay. Well, here’s an idea: stop looking for a couple of months then start again.” Derek shook his head stubbornly and Erica scowled at him. He could see what Boyd saw in her – she was feisty, funny and sarcastic, exactly what his dour friend needed. She gave a muttered curse before turning on her heel and heading to the door.

* * *

Derek couldn’t stop himself from smiling as he took in the next place. It was homely without being cluttered, decorated in warm, welcoming colours – it felt lived in, something the other places had not.

“Hey, well – I don’t know why I’m showing you this because – oh come on, Derek! Are you kidding?” He looked over at Erica, raising his eyebrow. “A place like this is long gone by now. Seriously, finding a property like this in Beacon Hills – there’s 90 vultures and one carcass!”

“Erica – “

“Okay, fine, I’ll call them but don’t blame me.” She disappeared into the kitchen and Derek walked around the living room once more, coming to stop at the window. The view was peaceful, the area seemed quiet and Derek felt himself relaxing for what felt like the first time in forever. He turned as Erica came back into the room. “Well, it’s pretty obvious why this hasn’t rented. There’s no one-year lease.”

“What does that mean?”

“It’s a month-to-month sublet.” Erica was frowning as she read something on her cell.

“Why?”

“Some family matter. They were close-mouthed about it and I haven’t been able to find anything out.” She checked her cell again. “They said something about a roof garden? Wanna see?”

“Yes please.” He followed Erica through the apartment, up some stairs and through a fire-door, coming to a halt with his mouth open. Erica stepped to one side and he kept walking, coming to a halt at the wall that surrounded the space. 

“Wow, what a view.” He thought he said it under his breath, but Erica had come up alongside him.

“Derek – “

“This is sensational.” The view was beautiful, the skyline of Beacon Hills laid out in front of him. He could see the Preserve from where he was, the sun highlighting the trees. 

“Oh my God, really? After some of the _palaces_ I’ve shown you?”

“And it’s got the private access?”

“Yeah, I checked. The owner is the only one with access to the roof space.”

“They didn’t do much with it but, I mean, you could really do something with this. Turn it into a proper haven.” He turned to Erica. “Isn’t this gorgeous?”

She sighed before smiling at him. 

“Boyd said you’d be contrary but I didn’t believe him.” Derek reluctantly followed her back to the apartment, moving across the room and throwing himself onto the couch. He almost groaned at how relaxing it was. “There are a few places in Richmond we haven’t tried yet.”

“I like the couch.”

“You like the couch, huh?”

“It’s a good couch. Here – sit.” He pulled Erica down onto the couch, smiling as she gave a little moan as she hit the firm but comfortable surface.

“Good couch.” She sat back, resting her head on the back of the couch, turning to face him. “This is it, huh?”

“Yeah – this is it. Thanks, Erica – I know I’ve been a pain in the ass.”

“You have, you have indeed. Okay, let me speak to the agent.”

* * *

Derek was woken from a sound sleep, his head fuzzy, his mouth tasting like shit from the beer he had been drinking before he dozed off. The couch really was too comfortable.

“What? What?” He looked around, trying to figure out what had woken him. “What the hell?” 

In front of him was a lean but muscular young man, hair a messy array of spike, pale skin dotted with moles and a mouth that was tightly pursed. 

“There is nothing worth stealing here. There’s no money, no drugs.”

“I – I’m not stealing anything.” Derek shook his head, trying to clear the last of the alcohol haze.

“Okay, well I’m pretty sure there’s a homeless shelter nearby. I will give you money for a cab and a good meal.” The young man scowled at Derek, then frowned. “But please, don’t blow it on more beer, okay?”

“I am not homeless – I live here!” Derek sat up, groaning at the pain in his head. 

“Okay, dude, you can’t live here. This is **my** apartment.”

“Since when?”

“Since I rented it, duh.”

“You rented it?” Derek felt like he was being a little dense but to be fair, the young man had taken him completely by surprise and seemed just a little unhinged. 

“Yes.” The young man stood staring down at Derek, then gave an angry huff. “You know what? I don’t need this.”

“What?” Derek’s mouth fell open at the sheer audacity of the complaint, especially considering his head felt like it was going to crack open and fall off his shoulders. Just how much had he had to drink last night?

“It’s a rent scam, right?” 

“What are you talking about? Have **you** had something to drink?”

“There’s probably five other people who paid deposits and got the keys.” Deciding logic was the only way to approach this, Derek looked around the room.

“And moved in all of their things?”

“Yeah – what?”

“This is my stuff. My things. All around you. I think maybe you’ve got the wrong apartment.” He gestured around the room. “All of this.”

“That’s my couch.” The young man spoke triumphantly. “And that’s my coffee table. Is that a ring? Have you never heard of a coaster?” He looked around and Derek flushed a little in embarrassment at the state of the room. “Or a trash can for that matter? I don’t care _who_ you are – you’re gonna mop that up! I’m getting the bucket!” 

“Listen – whoever you are – “

“It’s like a pig moved into my house!”

“HEY!”

“Like a filthy pig!” With an angry glare at Derek, the young man turned and headed towards the kitchen. Finally dragging himself up from the couch, Derek staggered into the kitchen only to find there was no-one there.

* * *


	4. Chapter 4

”You! You moved in when?”

“Jesus Christ, it’s you again! Where did you disappear to?” Sitting up in bed, Derek squinted at the young man. Grabbing his glasses, he was finally able to focus on the angry face staring down at him in bed. 

“Didn’t I tell you to get out?”

“Jesus!”Before Derek could figure out what to say, there was once again no one there.

* * *

Isaac took a sip of his coffee, giving Derek the gimlet eye.

“Okay, so what’s this all about?”

“Nothing.” Isaac raised a disbelieving eyebrow. “Why does it have to be about anything? I could just be visiting you, spending time with family the way you guys are always nagging at me to.”

“Derek – remember who you’re talking to please!”

“Okay, fine. I’ve sort of – been seeing someone.”

“Seeing someone?” A smile spread across Isaac’s face. “That’s what I’m talking about – this is excellent news.” 

“You think it’s a good thing?”

“This is good – this is brilliant. Let’s be honest – the last time I tried to set you up, you did a runner.” Isaac’s grin got wider. “The fact that you initiated it yourself, that’s important.” He looked at Derek’s face, obviously reading his expression. “This _isn’t_ excellent news?”

Derek shrugged, not quite sure how to fill Isaac in on what appeared to be happening. He really didn’t want to say any of this. 

“Now – who is she? Or he? Do I know them?”

“I mean I’m seeing someone that’s not there.”

“They’re emotionally unavailable?” Derek shook his head. “You mean, like a hallucination?”

“Twice. In my apartment.”

“Jesus Christ, Derek!” Isaac seemed to recover himself. “So – male, female?”

“It’s a man.”

“Right, okay. Attractive?”

“Isaac – not really there!”

“Right, right, yes. Okay.” He tapped his fingers on his desk and Derek looked away, staring at the certificates Isaac had decorating his office walls. “So – when you saw this man – were you drunk?”

Derek frowned, then admitted. “I mean, I had a _little_ buzz going.”

“Derek – do not lie to me! I have known you my whole life and I can read you like a book!”

“Okay, fine, I was wasted!” Isaac’s frowning face made Derek feel defensive. “But still – I shouldn’t be seeing some long-legged twink running around my apartment, shrieking at me! Isaac – are you writing this down? What the hell are you writing?”

“Habit.”

“This isn’t a session!”

“I know, I know. Besides, that’s insulting. I’m your best bud, your brother, Isaac. I’m not charging you.” Derek stopped trying to see what Isaac had been writing and sat back in his seat. “But if this thing rolls into a second hour we’re gonna have to work out some kind of deal! Joking, joking!”

“Not funny! The last thing I need is another shrink. Mom keeps going on at me about seeing a therapist.”

“You know, that’s not a bad idea.” Isaac took in Derek’s scowl. “Okay, back to the subject at hand. So, you were drunk?”

“Yep.”

“You saw this twink – attractive twink judging by your responses – a little controlling – “

“A **little** controlling? He’s a complete control freak!” Derek shook his head before dropping it into his hands. “I need to stop drinking.”

“No.”

“What do you mean, no?”

“I mean, no. You should drink. Party. Just do it with other people.” Isaac smiled at Derek’s confusion. “The good Lord gave us alcohol as a social lubricant – it makes men brave and women more likely to make mistakes.”

“Isaac – that’s sexist and disgusting. Is that some Berkeley shrink thing? Because Mom would be ashamed of you.” The Hales had adopted Isaac after the death of his father and Derek thought of him as the brother he wasn’t sure he had ever wanted but couldn’t get rid of. 

“Don’t you dare tell Mom I said that – my ears are still ringing from the last lecture I got. No, Derek, see this? This is the world telling you it’s time to rejoin the rest of us. Stop swimming around in your own mind – that is a dangerous neighbourhood you should not attempt to traverse alone! Come on, Derek – it’s been two years man!” Derek avoided Isaac’s look. “No more hiding out.” Realising his brother was waiting for a response, he nodded although he wasn’t sure just what he was agreeing to.

* * *

“Are you insane? What are you doing?” Ripping his hand out from under the sheet and hoping the material covered his erection, Derek jerked up in the bed. 

“Oh, God, what is this?!”

“Look, dude, I didn’t want to but I’m gonna have to call the police. You can’t keep doing this and you certainly shouldn’t be doing _that_ in someone else’s bed – at least, not without fully informed consent and possibly assistance!”

“I’m sleeping – it’s a dream. It’s one of those dreams where you know you’re dreaming.”

“Look, dude, how do you _keep_ getting in here?”

“It’s **YOU** who keeps getting in here!”

“Oh, my – I think this is more serious than I first thought.” Grabbing his glasses and putting on the lamp, Derek looked at the man.

“I’ve had enough – go away, you do not exist!”

“Okay – I’m gonna ask you a series of questions. I need you to answer honestly so that I can help you.” Derek gave a heavy sigh, leaning forward and resting his arms on his raised knees. He gave a ‘go on then’ gesture to his hallucination – his subconscious must be a truly fucked up place. 

“Has your recent alcohol consumption increased?”

“Well, yeah, but so?”

“Are you hearing voices or seeing things that aren’t quite real to you?” With a tilt of his head, Derek gave a sarcastic ‘Duh.” When the apparition just waited for a real response, he gave in. 

“As a matter of fact, yeah. I am _definitely_ seeing things that aren’t quite real.”

“Okay, this is important. Have you recently sought consult from a mental health care professional?”

“Did Isaac put you up to this? How did you know?” Scrambling up the bed, Derek raised his hands as if to ward off any approach. “Stay away from me.”

“You feel paranoid.”

“No shit!”

“Do you feel people are out to get you? That you are, perhaps, not quite living in the real world?”

“Why are you asking me so many damned questions?”

“I’ll take that as a yes.” The apparition folded his arms over his chest, a sincere expression on his face. “Listen to me. You have fantasised, quite convincingly I might add, that you’ve rented an apartment that, in fact, belongs to somebody else. As in, me. Now – pick up that pillow.”

Derek gave him a disbelieving look. 

“Pick it up – it’s okay.” Derek hesitantly picked up the pillow. “There’s a small stain on the back where I had a bad cough and spilt cherry cough syrup.” Derek turned over the pillow, stunned to see a small stain. “See it?”

Derek nodded.

“Okay, so how else would I know that if this apartment wasn’t mine?”

“I – “

“Or the fact that these sheets that you were about to rather spectacularly soil are from Nordstrom where Scotty and I got them on sale. I still have the receipt – it’s in that drawer.” Derek turned and looked at the bedside table as if it might jump up and bite him. “Open it up and check.”

Derek shook his head and the apparition sighed. 

“I think you need to come to terms with the fact that you are, quite possibly, mentally ill.” Derek snorted, slowly coming out of his shock.

“Really? That’s the best you have – that I’m mentally ill?”

“Yes! This is **my** apartment. These are my sheets.” Apparition gestured to the bed. “This is my bedside table. That is my photo – hey, where’s the photo that was there?”

“What photo?”

“There was a photo of me and my family – where did you put it?”

“I don’t know what to tell you – that was empty when I moved in.”

“No – it was _just_ there.” Apparition seemed confused now, a frown marring his face. “You know what? The photo doesn’t matter – I’ve had enough – I’m calling the police.” He turned and stomped out of the bedroom and Derek hastily clambered out of bed. Pulling on some boxers that were lying on the floor, he followed ‘Apparition’ to the living room where he was currently trying to pick up his cell. Trying being the operative word – his hand just kept passing through it. 

“Why can’t I – what the hell did you do to my phone?!”

“I didn’t do anything – listen, there’s something I need to tell you – “

“No – you just stay right there. I’m going to use the landline in the kitchen!” Before his eyes, Derek watched ‘Apparition’ simply disappear as he walked off towards the kitchen. This time he couldn’t even blame alcohol – what the hell was he going to do?

* * *


	5. Chapter 5

”Hi Erica – it’s Derek.” Derek tried to make his voice sound cheerful and nonchalant, hoping that Erica wouldn’t pick up on anything.

“Hey, Derek – is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah – all good. Um – the people who sublet the apartment to me – do you have their number?”

“Is something wrong?” He could almost _hear_ her interest peaking and he cursed silently. 

“No, no – I just wanted to ask them something. About the previous tenant actually.” 

“Oh, okay. Well, the guy I was dealing with didn’t seem to want to talk about it. I believe it was some kind of tragedy in the family. Funny thing – he has a daughter called Erica – how cool a coincidence is that? Anyway, I didn’t ask for any details – I was hoping to avoid any drama that could affect you getting the place.”

“You think this guy _died_?!”

“Not to be heartless, Derek, but you better hope so. It’s the only way they’re gonna get off this whole month-to-month thing they’ve got going on and give you a real lease. Are you sure you don’t want to check out other properties in the city? I have a few that have come in – “

“No, no, that’s cool. It wasn’t what I was going to ask anyway – that’s kinda morbid Erica!”

“Oh get real D-man! A place like that, handy for all the amenities? The only way you’re gonna get something like that is if someone dies!”

“Well, thanks for that lovely thought – I appreciate it. Thanks, Erica – give my love to Boyd.”

“Will do.”

* * *

Standing outside the book-store, Derek couldn’t quite bring himself to go in. Called Kitsune’s Korner, it had reviews online that said it had _everything_ anyone could want to read about the paranormal and supernatural. He wasn’t sure he wanted to be seen going inside but then, nothing online had seemed quite right. Fuck it, the worst that could happen would be someone saw him going in and reported him to his mother! That thought was enough to make Derek shove the door open with a little more aggression than planned, shocking the young woman who was sat behind the counter. 

“Hey there.”

“Hi”.

“I’m Kira – please let me know if there’s anything I can help you with.”

“Right – yeah, I will.” Derek looked around what he could see of the store, which was filled with heavy oak bookshelves overflowing with books. He felt just a little overwhelmed – he was much more used to finding things out online although he did love books as a general rule.

“Your aura – you have such an interesting aura.” Derek turned as he realised Kira had walked up to him while he had been stood there gawping around. She was pretty, long dark hair shining as it flowed down her back, eyes twinkling and alive. Her outfit was a strange mixture of hippie chic and goth, heavy clumpy boots slightly incongruous with the flowy skirt that shifted around her upper thighs. 

“My aura?”

“Yeah – you must have so much interesting stuff going on in your life right now. A period of transition is what I’m reading – “

“Okay, well I wasn’t looking for an aura-reading or whatever they’re called.”

“Okay, well what are you looking for?”

“Do you actually believe in all of this stuff? No offence meant.”

“Oh, none taken. Most people find they don’t believe until they do.” Derek nodded, not quite sure he was following Kira but fascinated nevertheless. He found himself trailing after her as she meandered through the shelves.

“So, what kind of encounter have you had?”

“What? No – what makes you think I’ve had an encounter? I haven’t been abducted by aliens!”

“So, not the UFO section. Good thing – that stuff isn’t even really Science.” She took a step back, giving Derek an assessing look. “Right. Ectoplasm? No – maybe soniferous ether?”

“I don’t even know what that is!”

“You know, I have a killer sauce book. It’s to help with communication.”

“I can honestly say, I don’t think communication is his problem! He’s **very** good at getting across how he feels about things.”

“Oh that’s awesome – it sounds like you have a real connection! So – he communicates with you; have you been able to communicate with him?” Derek shook his head, realising that up until now the apparition had done most of the talking and Derek had either been too drunk or too sleep-addled to contribute much to the conversation. “Then I have the **perfect** book for you! And if it doesn’t work, just bring it back – my mother will never know.”

Kira led him back further and further into the store, seeming to know exactly what she was heading for. She grabbed a thick book from the third shelf up, going up on tiptoe to reach before Derek could offer to get it for her. She turned, handing the thick tome to Derek with a smile.

“Thank you – Kira, you said?”

“That’s right. And may I suggest you consider getting your aura cleansed? There is some lingering sadness that you need to let go of – life goes on.”

“I’ll get right on that. Thanks for the book, Kira.” Derek left the store like his ass was on fire, clutching the book to his chest. It was only when he was nearly home that he realised he hadn’t paid. He shrugged, deciding he would go back tomorrow – he had a little experiment to run.

* * *

Derek felt a little stupid waving a fat stick of sage around, the thick smoke from where he had lit it making him feel like coughing.

> Spirit, awake.   
> Spirit, partake.  
> Spirit, without fear.  
> Spirit, appear.

Who the hell wrote this shit? Derek was pretty sure he’d written better poetry when he was a toddler. Walking around the whole apartment waving the glowing sage-stick, he felt absolutely nothing and got absolutely nothing so he finally gave up. Obviously, apparition wasn’t a fan of the classics. He moved into the kitchen to make himself a cup of coffee, an idea coming to him as he carried the mug into the living room.

“Um – are you here? Come on – I think you’re here.” Sitting down on the sofa, he looked around the room. “Okay – I’ve got a hot, moist cup of coffee in my hand. There is no coaster on this table – you know, the table you insist is yours? No? Well, since there’s no one else here, I’m just gonna lay this steaming mug of coffee onto this _lovely_ mahogany is it? **Without** a coaster – here I go – “

“Don’t you dare, you god-damn heathen!”

“Hah! I _knew_ you were here!”

“Dude, what is wrong with you – who the hell puts hot beverages down on mahogany without a coaster?”

“Listen, we need to talk.”

“What could I possibly have to talk to you about?” Apparition folded his arms across his chest and Derek realised one of the first things he probably needed to do was find out a name – he couldn’t keep calling the man ‘apparition’. But first – 

“Has it crossed your mind that there might be something maybe a little _off_ about the way you’ve been spending your days?”

“Actually, yes, now you come to mention it.” Derek nodded encouragingly. “There is something incredibly weird about having a squatter in your living room, and let's not talk about what you were going to do in my bedroom the other night!”

“I am not a squatter! You know what – let’s start again. Hi – I’m Derek Hale. And you are?”

“I am – “

“Yes?”

“I am – Stiles.”

“Stiles? What kind of a name is Stiles?”

“Rude! It’s **my** name!” Stiles looked a little uncomfortable and Derek realised something.

“You didn’t know that right away, did you? You had to think about that.”

“Don’t be ridiculous! Of course I know my own name!”

“Yeah, cos Stiles is something you would see on someone’s birth certificate!”

“Listen you – “

“Fine, fine, I’m sorry! Okay, **Stiles** , when was the last time you remember actually talking to someone other than me?”

“The other day. I spoke to – um, I – the other day.”

“Uh-huh. Okay – and when you’re not here, what do you do with the rest of your day?”

“That is actually none of your business.” Stiles gave Derek a scathing look. “I certainly do a hell of a lot more than you do. You must be independently wealthy with the sheer amount of time you spend just growing that mountain man beard of yours!”

Derek rubbed his cheek a little self-consciously, aware that his beard had passed well-groomed a few days back. 

“Let’s not stray from the topic here. Stiles – “

“That’s my name – don’t wear it out.”

“You are so childish!” As if to prove Derek’s point, Stiles stuck his tongue out! With a heavy sigh, Derek tried to regain control of the situation. “Do you recall if, perhaps, anything _dramatic_ has happened to you recently?”

“What on earth do you mean by dramatic?”

“I dunno – like maybe, dying?”

“How dare you say that to me? DUDE – what is _wrong_ with you that you would say that to someone?”

“Oh, so it’s okay for you to question my mental health but I can’t mention the fact that you might be – I don’t know – deceased?”

“There is seriously something wrong with you – “

“Look around you – is there a bright light? Although in your case, maybe more of an escalator leading down?”

“HEY! There **is** no light! I think I would know if I was dead – I am not dead!”

“Um, Stiles?”

“What?”

“If you’re not dead, why are you standing in the middle of your coffee table?”

“Well, shit!”

* * *


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No offence is meant to anyone's religious or personal beliefs.
> 
> * * *

”Get your hands off of me, you pervert!” To be fair, Derek didn’t actually have his hands ‘on’ Stiles – he was just trying to steer him so that he wasn’t standing in the middle of the coffee table and freaking them both out. 

“Calm down! I’m trying to help you! I mean, you need to face the fact that – “

**“I am not dead!”**

“Seriously? How much denial are you in?”

“I think I would know if I was dead, Derek.”

“That was a sentence I never expected to hear in my lifetime.” Stiles was walking back and forth in an agitated fashion, completely ignoring the fact that each of his passages across the living room took him through the coffee table. 

“There has got to be a perfectly reasonable, scientific explanation for this. Logically speaking – there has to be something logical about this entire situation.”

“Stiles – “

“You know, I’m pretty sure this only happened to me when you turned up.”

“WHAT?!” 

“Speaking logically, looking at the evidence – this only happened to me when you decided you wanted to live in my apartment. Ergo, you had something to do with this.”

“It is **not** my fault you are the way you are!”

“I want you out of my house! Once you’re gone, everything will go back to normal – “

“What, I move out and suddenly you’ll stop walking through the coffee table?” Stiles stopped and scowled at Derek, half of him disappearing into the couch. “You are giving me a headache – will you quit being **IN** the furniture!”

“I actually really think it’s time you left – I don’t know what your deal is Mountain-man, but you can’t be bringing this weirdness in here. I won’t put up with it.” 

“That’s it – I’ve had enough! I just want you gone – go – walk into the light – rest in peace – whatever, just GO!”

“I am going nowhere.”

* * *

Stiles proved himself to be a man – _ghost_ – of his word. Whenever Derek turned around, there Stiles was. He seemed to take great delight in sitting half in/half out of the couch, mainly because he knew how much Derek loved the damned sofa, and how seeing Stiles in it made it impossible to relax fully. Sleep became difficult because Stiles would sit and quote great chunks out of the bible – not loudly, just low enough that Derek couldn’t tune him out. Derek got around that by buying some noise-cancelling headphones. 

Stiles’ next tactic was singing.

> Tomorrow, tomorrow  
>  I’ll love ya  
>  Tomorrow  
>  You're only a day away
> 
> The sun'll come out  
>  Tomorrow  
>  Bet your bottom dollar that tomorrow – 

“Couldn’t you choose a good song? Why did it have to be from Annie?”

“What’s wrong with the classics? You don’t like Annie? Okay, how about this:”

> Oh, hello Dolly, well, hello Dolly  
>  It's so nice to have you back where you belong  
>  You're lookin' swell, Dolly, I can tell, Dolly  
>  You're still glowin', you're still crowin', you're still goin' strong  
>  We feel the room swayin' while the band's playin'  
>  One of your old favourite songs from way back when  
>  So, take her wrap fellas, find her an empty lap, fellas  
>  Dolly won't ever go away again 

“Okay, that’s it – I’ve tried being nice – I’m bringing in the big guns!”

* * *

“The power of Christ compels you, the power of Christ compels you, the power of Christ compels you.” Stood behind the priest that Isaac had recommended, Derek scowled at Stiles who was once again stood ‘in’ the couch. The priest was flinging holy water with vigour, sprinkling it around the room with an enthusiasm that wasn’t matched by his aim. 

“He can’t even see me.”

“A little to the left there, Father.”

“You’re mopping that up.”

“Try a bit more holy water, Father.”

* * *

“They’re gonna set off the smoke detector – I’m amazed you didn’t with that foul-smelling sage you used.”

“Aha! I knew you were here for that.”

“Sir – we have the entity.” Derek turned away from Stiles and looked at the ‘Exterminator’ that Isaac had recommended after the priest had failed to get rid of Stiles. 

“Er – you do?” He looked back at Stiles, who shrugged. 

“Yes – we managed to track it down – it was possessing the butter dish.”

“The butter dish – really?”

“Yes, sir. If it’s okay with you, we’d like to take it back to our laboratory and do a few experiments – nothing harmful obviously.” 

Derek nodded. “Oh obviously.”

“Thanks for calling us – please feel to recommend us to any of your friends who find themselves similarly afflicted.”

“Oh without a doubt.” Derek had to wear the noise-cancelling headphones to get away from the sound of Stiles’ mocking laughter.

* * *

“So, that’s it – you just sit there?” Kira opened one eye and gave Derek an impressive glare. 

“Hey, you want bells and whistles or do you want an honest reading?”

“Sorry.”

“Come on, dude. She can’t see me either. For some absolutely hideous reason that I have yet to fathom, only you can.” Stiles lay ‘on’ the couch, arms folded beneath his head as he observed Kira. 

“Okay – I’m feeling something.” Kira had closed her eyes again, her face turned towards the ceiling. 

“Oh, how original. Don’t tell me – a disturbance in the Force.”

“Shush!”

“Definitely a presence. It’s hostile.”

“No shit? I wonder what you could have told her that made her think I was hostile?”

“Stiles! Will you be quiet?”

“Oh, he wants you out of here!”

“Hmm, actually I kinda like this one.”

“You should move out.”

“What? No – I’m not moving out!”

“Well, I would.”

“I definitely like her.”

“No. I am not gonna move. I am not being pushed out.” Derek scowled at both Stiles and Kira, folding his arms over his chest. 

“Derek – can’t you feel that? There’s like – a great, searing ray of rage aimed directly at you.”

“I really like this one – she knows what she’s talking about.” Stiles sat up, giving Kira an assessing look. “She has a real gift.”

“I am not moving!”

“Why not? It’s not that great an apartment.”

“Excuse you – this is an _amazing_ apartment!” Stiles was indignant.

“Yes, it is.” Derek turned to Stiles. “It’s got that great view.”

“Right? And the fireplace for when it gets chilly.”

“Exactly.”

“Okay. Any chance I could have a drink please, Derek? A cola or even some water would be great – I’m feeling really parched.”

“Oh, where are my manners? Yeah, sure – come on into the kitchen.” Kira followed Derek into the kitchen where he prepared her a glass of ice water, watching as she drained it. “So – you think moving out is the only thing I can do? I mean – that can’t be it. Can you not talk to him – tell him he should move on, pass on or whatever.”

Stiles appeared next to him in the kitchen, giving Derek an evil look.

“I’m ignoring you.”

“Like, he should just go into the light.”

“Enough with the whole walk into the light thing.”

“Thought you were ignoring me?” Derek realised he was carrying on a conversation with Stiles whilst Kira just watched. “Sorry, he’s been irritating. I’ve **told** him to walk into the light but he refuses to do it.”

“That’s because there **is** no light! God, Derek, you are so infuriating!”

“What’s he saying now?”

“That there is no light.”

“Do you actually think this is easy for me? I _know_ something’s different, that something is not right. I’m walking through walls – I can only actually sit on my own furniture if I concentrate – this is not a walk in the park for me, dude, so if you could _please_ just stop telling me to walk into the light I would really appreciate it.” Stiles looked sincerely upset and Derek felt bad. 

“You know – I don’t think I can help you.” Derek looked at Kira in alarm. 

“What?”

“I can’t help you. I think he’s right – I don’t think he’s dead. This is one of the most alive spirits I have ever been around.”

“What the hell do you mean?”

“I mean – I agree with him. I don’t think he’s dead.”

“Why – what – “

“But you? You really need to look into getting your aura cleansed because you are carrying around some majorly dark energy. It must be so exhausting.”

“Hang on, I didn’t ask you to come here – “

“You have got one of the darkest auras I have ever come across – it must be sucking the life right out of you.” Kira stepped close to Derek, looking around his head as though peering at something. “It’s actually killing you. You need to let her go.”

“What?”

“I’m talking about her – the one you’re keeping in your head. That’s what’s really haunting you.” Derek recoiled, stepping back from Kira and trying to ignore the curious look on Stiles’ face.

“I don’t want to talk about that.”

“Ahhhh, I get it now – you were dumped, probably for some guy who didn’t have a mountain-man beard and a couch fused to his ass!” 

“Shut up.” Trying to hold onto his temper, Derek grabbed the glass from Kira and took it to the sink.

“Oh, you can dish it out but you can’t take it? You bring the Ghostbusters and the priest from the Exorcist here but I say one little thing and you lose it!” 

“You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, so just shut the hell up.”

“Derek – I am so sorry for your loss. Erm, spirit guy? Stiles, was it? A word to the wise – be mindful of how you speak and show some respect for the dead. I’ll let myself out, Derek. You know where to find me if you need me.” Derek remained at the sink, unwilling to face Stiles while he felt so raw. The sound of the front door closing was loud in the sudden silence.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs in chapter:
> 
> "Tomorrow" from the musical Annie
> 
> "Hello Dolly" from the musical Hello Dolly
> 
> * * *


	7. Chapter 7

"Derek?"

Derek didn't pull his head out of the pillow. Once Kira had left, Derek had gone to his bedroom, thrown himself onto the bed and buried his face, determined to have nothing further to do with Stiles. 

"I'm sorry." When Stiles said nothing further, Derek lifted his head and turned to face him. It was strange how strange it _didn't_ feel to find Stiles lying next to him on the bed. He just needed to not think about the fact that he couldn't feel any change in the mattress or that there was no dent in the pillow. 

"It occurred to me, finally, that I – I probably don't know you very well. And that maybe I was so busy thinking about my situation that I put no thought into yours."

"I got this place for the roof – fell in love with it as soon as I saw it. I was gonna do a whole garden out there – eventually. I think."

"I – "

"Sorry, I'm babbling."

"I'm really sorry." Stiles seemed to be thinking. "Most people who deal with loss find it helpful to talk about things."

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Well, anger works too I guess." They lay in silence. "Who was Kira talking about?"

"Jennifer. Her name was Jennifer."

"Who's Jennifer?"

"She was my wife."

"Oh. Wanna tell me what happened?"

"Actually, that is the last thing I want to tell you." Without giving himself time to think, Derek jumped up from the bed and grabbed a jacket from his closet. Isaac was always on at him to come out – tonight seemed like it would be a good time to follow that advice.

* * *

Derek nearly jumped out of his skin when he reached the bar and Stiles appeared next to him.

"Oh come on – don't do this! This is not gonna help."

"How would you know – have you ever been to a bar in your life?" He yanked the door open and stepped inside, his glasses fogging up instantly.

"Oh my God, the ground-hog emerges! I didn't think you'd make it!" He was engulfed in a hug by Isaac, and as his glasses slowly cleared he took in the other people around. "Okay, let me make the intros – this is Aidan, Mason, Corey and Liam. This is my brother, Derek."

There was a flurry of greetings and Derek wasn't sure who was who, but he was doing his best to ignore Stiles' disapproving glare. 

"What are you drinking?"

"Coffee." That was Stiles.

"I'll have Scotch – a large one please."

"Excellent – about time you took my advice."

"Don't you dare!"

"Actually, keep 'em coming."

"Yeah, Derek!!"

"You know, you don't have to wait – I can start the hangover right now."

"Yeah, yeah."

"What?"

"Oh, nothing – sorry."

"He's just excited to be out with real people – right, Derek?"

"You need to face these feelings – you can't drink them away."

"Watch me."

"So, Derek, you okay?"

"Say goodbye, walk to the door, and maybe let's go and get some real food into your stomach. You eat worse than any student I've ever met."

"Who the hell made you my mother?"

"Er, Isaac – is your brother okay?"

"Yeah, yeah – he's just – whoo hoo, it's Friday! Right?!" Isaac tugged Derek to the side. "How are you coming along with those hallucinations?"

"You told him I was a hallucination?"

"It was before tonight and yes, what else would you describe yourself as?"

"Derek – I'm really starting to become concerned here."

"Sorry, Isaac, it's just a lack of sleep."

"Sleep? Are you getting any? I can do a short prescription – nothing major, just something to relax you."

"No, no – I don't want to take anything. I'm getting about eight hours, it's just not real relaxing."

"Eight? More like twelve!" Stiles snorted.

"Nine tops!"

"Narcoleptic sloths are more alert than you!"

"Will you fuck off?!"

"Okay, okay – I was just trying to help." Isaac looked hurt, and Derek grabbed his arm. 

"I'm sorry – it's just – " Before he could reassure his brother, Stiles waved his hand directly in Derek's face. He automatically flinched backwards, dragging Isaac off balance. 

"Hey!"

"Sorry – will you quit it!" Stiles wafted his hands in front of Derek's face like he was doing tai chi and despite knowing he couldn't touch him, Derek kept dodging backwards. 

"Derek – maybe you should go home, man." Stiles finally stopped and Derek stood still, staring at Isaac.

"You're right – I'm sorry Isaac. I'll call you, okay?"

"Okay, man – but, maybe consider what Mom said about therapy?" Giving his brother a back-slapping hug, and waving at his brother's friends who were staring at him like he had lost his damned mind, Derek turned and walked out of the bar. 

Ignoring Stiles' smug facial expression, Derek walked along the block until he came to a small park. He climbed over the closed gate and strolled to one of the benches. He sat down, dropping his head back and he tried to figure out his next move. 

"You're gonna thank me for that one day." 

"For what? For making me look like a complete lunatic in front of my brother and his friends? For ruining the first night out I've had in – God, two years?" He turned to look at Stiles. "Why are you still here?"

"Beats me, dude. That's actually a scary question, to be honest. "Stiles looked down at his hands for a moment, trying and failing to look nonchalant. "All I know is when I'm not with you, it's like – I don't exist."

Derek's heart twisted at the expression on Stiles' face. He looked absolutely terrified and Derek could understand why. 

"Oh my God – what if I really am dead?" Stiles met Derek's sympathetic gaze. "I'm too damned young to be dead – I had plans dammit!"

"Oh yeah? What plans?"

"I was gonna – um – I don't know. Oh shit, I'm dead and an amnesiac."

"Look, I'm sorry I said you were dead. That was _very_ insensitive of me." Stiles still looked like he was going to cry. "Maybe Kira was right – maybe you're not dead. Maybe you're just – very light?" 

Stiles gave him an exasperated look but at least he didn't look distraught any more.

"If I could just remember something about who I am, or was. Then I'd know once and for all." He looked at Derek. "I've been trying to figure it out but – I just can't do it by myself." He seemed to be waiting for something but Derek had no clue. "Like – maybe I could do with some assistance – from someone in the real world."

"Oh – you're asking me to – help you?"

"Oh my God. Look – you have two realities, two choices in front of you."Stiles held up one long finger. "First one being that a man has come into your life in a very unconventional way and happens to need your assistance. It's not like you're particularly busy anyway – you spend most of your time growing your beard on my couch."

"What is your obsession with my beard?"

"Concentrate. Second, you are losing your ever-loving mind, and are sitting on a park bench talking to yourself."

"I think I prefer the first one."

"Good choice, man – I'm not sure they do a straight-jacket big enough for those shoulders." Stiles looked embarrassed. "Sorry – that was a very personal comment I made there."

"Don't worry about it – that's quite possibly the nicest thing you've ever said to me."

"Yeah, well. You obviously _used_ to work out or something."

"And there you go, back to insulting me. It's like you never outgrew the kindergarten flirting technique." Derek stood up and began walking back to the gate.

"Who says I was flirting with you? I tend to avoid flirting with straight men."

"Hey – just because I was married to a woman does not mean I'm straight." Derek smirked when Stiles winked out of existence. Go him, he'd finally won one of their bizarre conversations.

* * *


	8. Checking out the Neighbours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek and Stiles try to find out who he is.
> 
> * * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick note: When Derek and Stiles are around other people, I have put Stiles' speech into brackets - hopefully it will make it easier to distinguish when he is talking.
> 
> * * *

”So, where do we start?”

“Let’s check out your neighbours – they must know _something_ about you.” 

“Sounds like a plan – let’s do it.”

“Can we wait until Monday? It feels a little weird approaching people on a Saturday – they’re trying to enjoy their weekend.”

“Derek – people might be at work on Monday – you know, that thing that some of us have to do to make money to afford the lovely couch you adore so much!”

“Please don’t say that like you actually work – apart from working at making me lose my mind.”

“Ouch, that hurts!! Becoming your friend is a job in itself – you should be pleased I’m prepared to put in the effort.”

“Stiles?”

“Yeah?”

“Will you shut up if I go knock on a few doors?”

“Absolutely.” Jumping up from the couch, Derek grabbed his keys and prepared to start investigating.

* * *

“No, I’m pretty sure that apartment was vacant before you.”

“You sure?”

“Well, I never saw or heard anyone there so – yep, pretty sure.”

* * *

“Someone was living there?”

* * *

“Well that explains so much – I was starting to wonder if it was haunted, weird comings and goings all hours of day and night. But nope, never met them.”

* * *

(“Jesus – it’s like I was a ghost before I was dead.”)

Derek knocked lightly on the next apartment door, waiting patiently.

“Hi, can I help you?”

“Hello, I’m Derek Hale – I live on the floor above?”

“Nice to meet you.” The young man pulled his door open further, showing himself to be wearing yoga pants hanging _very_ low on his hips, and a stretched out tank. “I’m Theo.”

(“Finally somebody normal.” Stiles nodded excitedly next to Derek. “I bet we were friends.”)

“So, how can I help? Run out of sugar?” (“He’s really friendly, I like him.”) 

“Ha, no. I have a question actually. The apartment upstairs, the one I took over, it belonged to a young man.”

“Yeah, I think there was somebody up there.” Theo nodded. “But to be honest, I think he was, like, pretty antisocial.” (“Okay, it looks like maybe we weren’t _close_ friends.”)

“To be honest, he was kinda like a cat-lady but without the cats. And not a lady.”

“Really?”

(“And I think we’re done here.”)

“Okay, well thank you.”

“Look, I hope you don’t mind me asking. I’ve got a window here – I cannot get it open. I was wondering if you’d mind taking a look?”

(“He has got to be kidding.”)

“What?”

(“He wants you to come in!”)

“What?”

(“He’s putting the moves on you! That’s pretty damned brazen if you ask me – you could be a serial killer for all he knows! Especially with that beard!”)

“Again with the beard?”

“What?” Derek shook his head and turned back to Theo.

“Sorry, you were saying about your window?”

“Yeah – any chance you could take a look?”

“Well, if it’s painted shut, sometimes if you take a screwdriver and jam it in – “

“Oh, tried that and it didn’t work. Just wouldn’t budge.”

(“No preliminaries – barely introduced – this is not a club for God’s sake!”)

“I would love to help, but unfortunately I’ve got plans – for dinner. With a friend.”

“Well, if you end up wanting dessert...”

(“I think I just threw up in my mouth.”)

“Well, okay – it was great to meet you, Theo. Thanks.”

“Anytime – and I mean that.”

(“Can we get away from him before we catch something?”)

* * *

“Why was he wearing work-out clothes? I mean, it was pretty obvious he wasn’t wearing a jock – who works out without wearing the proper clothing?”

“You’re not coming with me any more.” Flicking on the kettle, Derek leaned against one of the kitchen cabinets.

“Why? Something might jog my memory.”

“Too bad. I look like a lunatic answering your questions instead of theirs. You’re like my own internal ear-worm and it’s distracting.” The kettle went off and Derek made himself a mug of coffee. It always felt a little ‘off’ not offering Stiles something but it wasn’t as though he could actually eat or drink.

“You don’t think that he was completely un-classy and predatory?”

“Those happen to be two of men’s favourite things. With someone like that, you know exactly where you are.”

“Yeah, but – let’s be honest, you needed me there to let you know what you would have been walking in on. Are you a baby-gay? New to the whole experience? Looking for a mentor?”

“Do you even think before opening your mouth?”

“Use a coaster, Derek.”

“Sorry.”

* * *

“There are five other units here and not one single person even remembers what you look like. Talk about being disconnected.”

“Pot – meet kettle.”

“Well, at least I’ve met them now.” Derek jumped up and went to the kitchen.

“What are you doing?”

“Most people have a junk drawer in their kitchen – I’m seeing if you left anything in yours.”

“Oh. Cool.” Derek pulled out various drawers, saying ‘a-ha’ when he found what he was looking for.

“Check it out – look what I found!”

“What is it?”

“New leads. Look, there’s an address written on here.” Derek showed Stiles the piece of paper he had dug out of the drawer. It was a little smudged but was definitely an address. “I can’t make it out – is that a five or a six?”

“You should put your glasses on – you see better in them than your contacts.”

“You know that makes zero sense, right?”

“Okay, fine, you look better with the glasses.” Stiles seemed to be blushing and Derek looked away. 

“I think it’s a five.” Stiles looked down at the piece of paper again.

“No – yeah, actually, you’re right. That’s a five.”

“So, we have an address, a dry cleaning ticket and a book of matches. You know what that means?”

“If we weren’t in my apartment, we could start a small fire?”

“My apartment. And no – it means we have hope. We have something to try on Monday.”

“Huh. Okay then.”

“Wanna watch a movie?”

“Yeah sure.” Stiles led the way to the couch. “But I get first choice – your movies always have subtitles and little meaning.”

“Philistine.”

* * *

Monday morning found Derek in the local dry cleaner’s, waiting as the guy who worked behind the counter looked over the ticket. 

“This is old, dude. But yeah, I remember these pants – they were jet black, Armani if you can believe it.”

(“I remember them. They were expensive.”)

“Do you remember anything else? Maybe about the man who dropped them off? It’s kinda important.”

“He was pleasant enough I guess. A little dull maybe.”

(“Dull?”)

“Dull?”

“Yeah. When I think about him, I think – kinda sad looking, you know? Maybe a little lonely.”

(“I don’t need a psychological profile from this guy.”) Stiles looked upset and Derek felt a little helpless. (“Can we just get the pants and go?”)

“Okay, thanks – can we just get the pants?”

“Sorry, item left too long. We give them to a homeless shelter.”

(“WHAT?”)

“That’s actually really good of you. Thanks for your help.” Leaving the dry cleaners, Derek slipped in his Bluetooth headpiece – it gave him a good reason for appearing to talk to himself and thereby avoided a lot of weird looks. He turned back when he realised Stiles was stood outside the dry cleaners. “Okay, let’s go.”

“Are you insane? They were Armani – you don’t give Armani pants away! And besides – they made my ass look fabulous!” 

“Are you coming or not?” Stiles scowled but caught up with Derek. “They’re pants for God’s sake. What do you need them for?”

“I bet you wouldn’t be saying that if it was a pair of your John Varvatos pants.”

“Stay out of my wardrobe.”

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Should I tag this as slow burn? I mean, it's chapter 7 and they've only _just_ started flirting with each other! Let me know!
> 
> * * *


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My medical knowledge is limited to what I saw in the film/read in the transcript, so please forgive me if I get anything wrong.
> 
> * * *

Derek stood in front of an apartment, trying to see if there was anything particular distinguishing it from the others.

“Look familiar?”

“Not really.” Shrugging, Derek walked to the front door and rang the number 455. After a short wait, the door was opened by a middle-aged gentleman. 

“Hi.”

“Hello.” The gentleman waited politely, just looking at Derek. “Can I help you?”

“Oh yeah, right. Um – this might sound a little odd, but I was wondering if you knew a certain young man. Spiky brown hair, pale skin, moles – “

“Oh my God, who are you?”

“Er – I don’t know you. I – “

“Did my wife hire you?”

“I’m sorry – what?”

“I knew she’d find out! How much is she paying you? Whatever it is, I’ll double it.” Derek recoiled in shock. “Anything you want.”

“I’m not looking for money.”

“Duke – who is it?”

“That’s Kali – look, come back around six.” Duke looked over his shoulder. “I’ll have a check ready.” The door slammed in his face and Derek stepped back. Turning away from the house, he stepped out of the way of a nurse who was heading towards the apartment block and began to walk down the sidewalk. 

“Wow.”

“What? You don’t think I _actually_ had sex with that old horn-dog? He’s old enough to be my father for God’s sake!” 

“Kind of looks that way, Stiles.”

“That’s disgusting!”

“Look on the bright side – come six o’clock, I’m coming into some money.”

“Ugh.” Stiles was silent as they walked and Derek enjoyed the peace, knowing that it was shortly going to be broken. “Oh my God, what if I was some kind of rent-boy or something?” And there it was.

“A rent-boy? Able to afford _your_ apartment? Please.”

“Okay, then a slut – a lonely, home-wrecking slut.”

“Jesus Christ, the stuff that comes out of your mouth!” Checking the piece of paper he had in his hand, Derek pointed. “Let’s go this way.”

It didn’t take Stiles long to start talking again.

“So what if I was a slut? There’s nothing wrong with having a healthy sexual appetite.”

“Nope, not at all.”

“Phht! Look who I’m talking to – Mr ‘Trying to Feel Me Up’ that one time.”

“I wasn’t trying to – you know, I was actually _agreeing_ with you!” They walked down-town, hoping that Stiles would recognise something that would jolt his memory, arguing Varvatos versus Armani.

“Derek – wait!”

“What?”

“This is it!”

“This is what? You recognise something?”

“I do – this is Moose’s.”

“Well, yeah – that’s what the name says above the door.” Stiles gave him the side-eye and Derek smirked. “Okay, fine, yes. It’s a restaurant.”

Derek opened the door, letting Stiles enter the restaurant ahead of him. It was a nice place, not too up-market, but welcoming. 

“Do you think you ate here a lot?”

“I loved this restaurant.” Stiles tilted his head, looking around with interest. “But no – no, I don’t think I actually ate here.”

“What?”

“I remember standing looking through the window, wishing I could eat in here.”

“What were you, some kind of homeless, street-urchin, hoping for scraps?” Stiles aimed a slap at Derek’s arm and he ignored the way the blow passed straight through him. “Why didn’t you eat here then?”

“I think – I think, I never quite got around to it.” Stiles lowered his head, biting his lip. “Maybe the dry-cleaner guy was right about me.”

“Hello sir, can I help you?” Turning to the hostess that had walked up to him while he was talking to Stiles, Derek shook his head.

“No, thank you. Maybe some other time.” As he turned to open the door to leave, there was a crashing sound and one of the diners fell to the floor, clutching his chest. 

“KENNY!”

“Someone call 911 – we need an ambulance!”

“Undo his collar – is he breathing?”

“I can’t tell!”

“Maybe someone should do mouth-to-mouth?”

“God, we need a Doctor – why isn’t that ambulance here?”

“Is there a Doctor here – is anyone a doctor?”

(“Feel his chest.”)

“What? I’m not gonna feel his chest!”

(“Derek! Just feel his chest – check and see if it’s bloated!”)

“How the hell would I know if it’s bloated?”

(“Just do it!”) Stiles hissed at him.

“Okay, okay!” Derek stepped forward, moving people aside. “Excuse me. Pardon me. I need to feel his chest.”

(“Can you feel his ribs?”) Derek did as instructed, feeling down the man’s chest. 

“No, but I can if I press down.”

“Sir – what are you doing?”

(“Does he feel bloated.”)

“I guess – I mean, I think so.”

“Sir – you think what?”

(“Tell them you’ll need a sharp paring knife and a bottle of vodka.”)

“Um – I’m gonna need a sharp paring knife and a bottle of vodka.”

“Ivan – get the gentleman what he needs.” This hostess turned back to Derek. “What’s wrong with him?”

(“I think it’s a tension pneumothorax.”)

“It’s a tension nemothax.”

(“Pneumothorax.”)

“Nemowhahax?”

(“Pneumothorax.”)

“Never mind!” 

“So, what’s wrong?”

(“The air is escaping out of his lungs into his chest.”)

“Air out of his lungs going into his chest.”

(“Open his shirt.”)

“Open his shirt?”

“What?”

(“No, you do it!”)

“Sorry, I’ll do it!” Derek opened the man’s shirt, looking down at what could now clearly be seen to be a bloated chest. Ivan came back, handing Derek the vodka and the paring knife.

(“Now – it’s about the valve at the opening of the lungs. If it doesn't close, it constricts the lungs and compresses the organs. Derek, I want you to feel for his ribs again.”)

Putting down the vodka and the knife, Derek did as instructed, feeling tentatively down the man’s chest. 

(“A little bit lower. The spot between two ribs – do you feel that?”)

Derek nodded, experiencing a bad feeling he knew where Stiles was going with this. 

(“Okay, splash some vodka on it.”)

He turned his head, giving Stiles a funny look but seeing that Stiles was deadly serious, he turned and liberally splashed vodka on the man’s chest. 

(“All right. Get the knife.”)

“Okay. Just gimme a minute.” Derek looked around at the crowd of people. “Can I ask everyone just to stand back a little bit here? A little bit further, please. A little bit further. Thank you.” Now that he wasn’t feeling quite so claustrophobic, he muttered under his breath to Stiles. “What exactly am I doing with the knife?”

(“Make an incision.”)

“You know what? No – uh-huh, I don’t think so.”

(“Derek – this man’s life is at stake.”)

“Stiles, I am not doing this – I can’t stab this man!”

(“OK. There's nothing to be afraid of. You’re not gonna stab the guy. You’re just gonna make a little hole in his chest for the air to escape.”)

“That’s semantics and you know it.”

(“Just put the god-damn knife on that spot.”)

“Oh my God – okay, okay.” Derek picked up the knife then looked at Stiles. “How do you know this?”

(“I don’t know, I just do – maybe I watched a lot of medical programmes – I’m joking! Derek – just do it!”)

Hand shaking, Derek put the knife on the spot and gave a little push.

(“You’re gonna have to push harder than that. A little bit harder – come on, Derek, you can do it.”)

Derek felt the knife give slightly.

(“Okay, okay, good. That’s enough. Now – take the pourer out of the vodka bottle.”)

“Is that so I can have a drink?”

(“Derek – focus! You’re doing good – now, just put the pourer in the hole you made.”)

“You want me to what?” Ignoring Stiles’ censure, Derek took a quick swig from the vodka bottle.

(“Will you just – look, it will hold the hole open and allow the trapped air to escape.”)

“I can’t do it.”

(“Yes you can – just do it!”) Feeling like he was going to throw up, Derek carefully squeezed the pourer into the hole he’d made with the knife and there was instantly a hissing sound as the air began to escape. 

(“He’s breathing!”)

“He’s breathing!”

(“I’m a Doctor!”)

The hostess appeared at Derek’s side, kneeling to shake his hand. “The ambulance will be here right away.”

(“Ask where the nearest hospital is.”)

“That’s great – can you tell me where the nearest hospital is?”

“It’s a just a few blocks away – it’s the Beacon Hills Memorial.”

“Thank you!” Standing up and stepping back, Derek allowed the newly arrived paramedics to get to the unconscious man. In all of the kerfuffle, he managed to slip out of the door of the restaurant, jogging slightly to get further away before settling into a walk beside a very excited Stiles.

(“I may have been a home-wrecking slut, but I saved lives!”) Stiles did a little dance, shaking his hips and shoulders. (“I worked in that hospital.”)

“Stiles – we don’t know that for sure.”

(“I know, I know – but it sounds so familiar!”)

“I’ve never saved a life before.” Derek came to a standstill, turning to face Stiles.

(“It’s the best feeling in the whole world – one minute, you’re looking at a monitor and it’s like _‘game over for you, dude’_ and the next you bring it back and a little blip, and it’s there!”)

Smiling at how exuberant Stiles was, Derek looked down at his shaking hands, noticing a spot of red on one of them.

“What’s that?”

(“Oh, that’s just a little blood.”) The world went fuzzy and the last thing Derek heard was Stiles’ exasperated voice saying, “Derek!”

* * *


	10. Chapter 10

The walk to the hospital didn’t take long at all, and Derek found himself half-praying that this led to something because he wasn’t sure how Stiles would cope if it was another dead-end. 

(“I work here.”)

“You did?” Derek looked around, taking in the clean crisp hospital reception area.

“The receptionist? Her name is Tara. It’s all coming back to me now – that’s Bill, and there’s Karen – there was a nurse called Jenny but I can’t see her at the moment!”) Nodding, Derek led the way to the reception desk, giving a shy smile to ‘Tara’.

“Hi, I was wondering if you could help me. I’m looking for information on Stiles – “

“You knew Stiles?” 

(“YES”)

“I did, I did yes!”

“Oh. Um, I’m sorry – Dr Stilinski is not – active on our staff at the moment.”

(“That’s my name – Stiles Stilinski!”)

“If you’ll hold on for a moment, I need to talk to someone.” The receptionist turned away. “Excuse me, Doctor?”

“Sure – thanks.”

(“Oh no – that’s not good.”)

“What – they know you! What’s not good?”

(“She’s got that tone.”)

“What tone?”

(“ _The_ tone. You’re trying to pass the buck onto somebody else to tell you your friend died!”)

“Sir? I need you to go to the third-floor nurses’ station.”

“Okay – thanks very much.” The journey up in the elevators was quiet but Derek could see that Stiles was jittery. They stepped out of the elevator and walked to the desk.

(“Oh no, that’s Melissa. She’s my Mentor. They wouldn’t send us here unless it was bad.”)

“Hi – I was told to come here. I was asking about Stiles Stilinski.”

“Can I ask your name please, sir?”

“I’m Derek – Derek Hale.”

“I’m Melissa Delgado.”

“Nice to meet you. Could you tell me what happened to Stiles?”

“I need to know your relationship with him.”

(“Tell her you’re my boyfriend – she can’t tell you anything unless she knows we’re intimately connected.”)

“We were romantic with each other.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know – we were boyfriend-boyfriend – when two guys meet and like each other – “

“I know what romantic means! But I have a hard time believing that you and Stiles were romantically involved.”

(“What? Why?”)

“What? Why?”

“Stiles’ whole life was this hospital.” (“Was? Did she say _was_?”) “I don’t know of a single date that he went on.”

“We – we were fairly recent. I live in his apartment – “

(“Building.”) “Building. I live in his apartment building.”

“Oh, right. So you don’t know about his accident?”

“Accident?” 

(“Oh God, Derek! I remember it. It was awful.”)

“I was – I’ve been away.”

“I’m really sorry. It was three months ago.”

“I was away – on a business trip.”

* * *

There was a heartbeat in his ears, loud and insistent, and Stiles found himself turning away from Derek and Melissa to follow the sound. It was like he was flying as his body took him down the corridor, turning corners until it came to a room where the sound was coming from. Involuntarily, Stiles stepped through the door and found himself stood in front of his body. He recognised all of the machines, could have told Derek what they all did and said, but he was transfixed by the sight of himself. He stepped forward until he was at the end of the bed, looking down on himself. He looked pale, his hair longer than he usually kept it as it lay splayed on the pillow. 

The door opened behind him and Derek stepped into the room.

“Oh my God – what was that? It was like you were flying!” Derek turned to the bed, gasping. “Oh my God, it’s you! I mean – I knew but – it’s really you. You – you’re not dead, you’re alive!”

“I know I’m alive but it’s not good Derek – I’m in a coma. _This_ is not good.”

“Well, it’s way better than dead! I mean, look at you – your body is healing, it’s – You don’t have any scars.” Derek stood next to Stiles at the end of the bed. “You look kinda handsome.”

“Thanks – but it doesn’t matter how I look. Three months – that’s a persistent coma.”

“Yeah, but we’re here now. Let’s do something.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know – you’re the doctor! What would you tell a coma patient to do if you could talk to them?”

“You say the weirdest shit, dude!”

“Don’t call me dude! Now, do something.”

“I don’t know – I guess I need to find a way to pull myself together. Get it?”

“Not the time for jokes, Stiles.”

“Sorry.” 

“So, yeah – how do we put you back together?”

“I guess – I climb back into my body?”

“Sounds good.” Stiles sat down on the bed, then lay down ‘in’ his body, trying to align himself. The machines began beeping slightly louder.

“That’s great – that’s good – something’s happening!” Derek sounded excited. “Yeah, yeah, yeah! I think it’s working!” Stiles lifted his head to see the monitor more clearly, realising that he had ‘left’ his bodily head on the pillow. “Ah!”

“Yeah. Hold on, let me try again.”

“Okay, but this time _really_ focus on it – hold on inside there!”

“I’m not sticking.” Stiles sat up in frustration. “It’s like I’m no longer connected to this body.” He stood up, hands on his hips as he stared down at himself.

“Okay – right. Turn around – I want to try something.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Must you be so untrusting? Just – turn around.” With a sigh, Stiles turned around. His hand began to tingle and he turned to see that Derek had gently taken hold of his bodily hand.

“My hand tingled.”

“So – you **are** still connected to your body.”

“Yeah, but the monitor doesn’t agree.” Stiles couldn’t help but notice that Derek was still holding his hand.

“Stiles – machines don’t know everything.”

“Well, that goes against everything in my training.”

“Then how exactly are we having this conversation?”

“I don’t know – I – “ The door opened and Melissa stepped into the room.

“I’m sorry, Mr Hale, but I have an appointment I need to get to and I can’t leave you here unattended.”

“Right, yeah. Would it be okay if I had a couple more minutes? I would like to say goodbye.”

“Of course.” Melissa stepped out of the room again. Stiles walked over to the window sill, looking at the array of flowers, balloons and hand-drawn pictures there. 

“My nieces must have made these things for me.” Derek came to his side, bending over to examine one of the drawings. The image depicted Stiles with three eyes and long, sharp spikes for hair. 

“Wow – that is an amazing likeness.” He walked along the ledge, coming to a stop at a framed picture. “Look at this.”

“That’s the picture that used to be on my night-stand. Scott must have brought it.”

“Well, you look great.”

“Yeah, but look at me now. These levels aren’t changing, Derek. If anything, they’re decreasing.”

“I’m gonna have to leave soon.”

“All right.”

“Want me to wait downstairs in the lobby?”

“No – no that’s cool. You’ve been great, Derek – thank you so much for all of your help.” Derek hesitated.

“It was my pleasure – kinda.” He went to stand by the door. “Are you sure you don’t want to come back with me? After all, it is your apartment.”

“No, it’s fine. After everything it took for us to get me here – I can’t imagine leaving myself, you know?”

“Okay – I just – it feels weird leaving you here alone.”

“I don’t know where else I belong.” The door popped open again, Melissa’s head appearing around the edge.

“Mr Hale, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, sorry. Thank you. “ Derek turned back towards the bed and Stiles could see the struggle he was having. Feeling strangely reluctant to see Derek leave, Stiles took a deep breath and smiled at him. “Goodbye Stiles.”

(“Goodbye.”)

And Derek was gone and Stiles was alone with his body.

* * *


	11. Chapter 11

Stiles stood at the nurses’ station, eavesdropping on the conversation between Melissa and Jane.

“Oh, I hate this!” Melissa sounded sad. “He finally gets a life, and then – “

“That guy was hot.” Jane fanned herself and smiled.

“He was. Well, at least Stiles got a chance to hang out with him for a while.” Melissa looked in the direction of Stiles’ room, before giving a heavy sigh. “It would have been awful if he’d gone through his whole life not knowing what it was about, that the hospital and the work shouldn’t be everything.”

Not wanting to hear any more, Stiles walked away, wandering into the break room. He smiled when he saw someone sat at the table, asleep sitting up – he well remembered that exhausted feeling when you could and often did sleep any chance you could. Through the wall into a storage cupboard and he gasped, watching two people making out.

“Jenny? Well, that explains why I could never find you when I needed you! Good on ya girl – get it!”

Smirking, he moved through the next wall, surprised to find he was in what appeared to be Jackson’s office. Jackson was on his cell.

(Well, I guess you got my job.)

“Yeah, I think I’ve earned it. I deserve it.” Jackson laughed at something the other person said.

(Is it everything you thought it would be?”)

“It is. And it’s time to upgrade. The Porsche is nice but I’m thinking Maserati maybe. I’m going to the dealer tonight.” The internal hospital line rang. “Hold on – it’s Finstock, I have to take this. Hello? Really? You want me to do it? Sure – of course I can.” Jackson hung up the internal line and instantly returned to his cell. “Dude, did you know I can get a Blu Ray player installed in the Maserati? Who cares if I can’t watch it while I’m driving – it’s knowing I can have it!”

(Did you know there are people out there who are dying? I’m in a coma – have you noticed?)

“I know! Sweet!” Stiles heard the thundering sounds of children’s footsteps just outside, then a couple of childish voices that he was pretty sure he recognised.

(Lydia? Erica?) Sliding through the door to Jackson’s office, he was just in time to see his nieces sprinting down the corridor to his hospital room, chattering to each other excitedly. (Oh my God, look how much you two have grown!) He followed them to his room, sliding through the wall just as they made it to his hospital bed.

“Beat ya!”

“Did not!”

“Did too!”

“Did not!”

“Did too!”

“Did not!”

“Did too!”

(Well I guess some things never change!) Moving closer to the girls, Stiles reached to touch Erica on the shoulder. His hand passed harmlessly through the little girl and he sighed.

(How could I feel him and not you guys?)

“Did not!”

“Did too!”

The door opened behind him, and Scott walked in, weighed down by the girls' coats, hats and scarves. His brother looked harried and tired, dark circles under his eyes.

“Oh, that’s funny!”

(Scott.)

“I distinctly remember saying no running, no screaming. And yet, my two little harridans made enough noise to wake the dead.” Erica and Lydia took no notice of their father, continuing to squabble. “All right, chill – I’m serious.”

Stiles stepped closer to his brother, reaching out to touch his shoulder with a hesitant hand. If anyone should be able to feel him, it would be Scott – they had always been incredibly close.

(Scott – can you feel me? Can **you** tell I’m here?)

Scott turned and dumped the girls outer clothing onto the chairs by the wall. (I guess not.)

“I hope you feel better.” That was Erica.

“Get well soon. I love you.” Stiles smiled sadly at the earnest expression on Lydia’s face. “Daddy says its ‘portant that we talk to you. I remember when you pushed us on the swings, though you did push Erica for longer which isn’t fair – “

(It’s so sweet that you guys visit me, talk to me.)

“I miss you more than Lyddie does.”

“Do not.”

“Do too.”

“Do not.”

“Do too.”

There was a tap on the door and Jackson entered the room.

“Excuse me – Mr McCall?”

“Hi.”

“I’m Dr Whittemore – is there any chance I could have a quick word with you?” Scott moved to the door, checking the girls over his shoulder.

“Sure – what do you want?”

“First of all, I hope you know how much we all love and miss Stiles.”

(Please – I guarantee you’re doing high fives of sheer joy that you didn’t have to move to Phoenix.)

“Because he was a senior resident here, we’ve taken what could be seen as some extraordinary measure to make him more comfortable these last three months.” There was a loud beeping and Stiles turned around to see Erica fiddling with one of the dials on his monitor.

“Erica, what did we talk about? Turn it back! And watch your sister! I’m sorry – you were saying?”

“Mr McCall – this is hard to say. When we come to work here, we are asked to sign release forms.”

“Okay.”

(I don’t like the sound of this.)

“Did you know your brother’s opinion about artificially prolonging life?”

“No.” Scott’s voice was small as though he had an inkling of what Jackson was leading up to.

“He was against it.”

“Really?”

(Okay, that was _before_! I am most definitely in favour of prolonging life now!)

Jackson gave what was no doubt meant to be a charming smile.

“To be honest, most people in our profession feel that way.”

(Nope – not me! I’m perfectly happy! Come on, Scott – how can you not feel me? We’re bros!)

“But – there’s still some brain activity, isn’t there? People have woken up from this kind of coma.”

(That’s my boy! People wake up from this shit all the time!)

“Not on any record I’ve found.”

(Jackson, you are a lying lizard who lies!) Stiles waved his hands in front of Scott’s face, looking for any indication that his brother knew he was there. (If people don’t wake up from this kind of coma, what am I doing here? Oh my God, I feel queasy.) Stiles turned around to find that Lydia and Erica had found the controls for the bed and were busily concertinaing him into a pretzel.

“Jesus, what are you two doing?” Scott left Jackson to pull the girls away, pressing buttons until the bed went back to its normal position.

“We were looking for the stick.”

“What are you talking about, Erica? What stick?”

“You said that sometimes Uncle Stiles had a stick up his – “

“Stop right there! TV is going to become a dim memory for the pair of you if you don’t start to behave right now!”

“Mr McCall.”

“What?” Scott turned back to Jackson with an impatient look on his face.

“Stiles did sign a release, but because of the special situation we won’t take any terminal action without your explicit approval.” Jackson held an envelope out to Scott. “Now, I’ve prepared this paperwork – “

(Don’t sign that! Scott, I am still here!)

“If you decide to sign – “

“I’ll think about it.”

(Jesus Christ, Scott, don’t sign those papers! I’ll – I’ll babysit more! I’ll stop teaching Erica curse words! I’ll stop cracking jokes about how strong your right wrist must be with how often Allison has to go overseas for archery competitions!)

Jackson gave what to Stiles looked like a ‘faux’ sad smile.

“We sometimes find that it’s easier for people in your situation to ask God’s forgiveness and not prolong the inevitable.”

Scott glared at Jackson, his mouth taking on a mulish look, crooked jaw squared off. “I **said** I’ll think about it. This is my brother – you’re not going to rush me into turning off his machines.”

“Of course, of course – that most definitely wasn’t my intention.”

(Oh my God, thank you, Scott! You have always looked out for me, dude!)

Jackson took the hint and left the room, and Stiles went to stand next to his brother. He had never seen Scott looking so run down, so disheartened and it broke his own heart to think he was responsible for it. The number of times he had called off dinner, not gone to the park with his brother and his nieces, had put the hospital first – it all came flooding back to him and filled him with guilt. What he wouldn’t give to have that time back. But if the purpose of all of this was to make him see what he had been missing with his family, how come they couldn’t seem to hear or see him?

* * *


	12. Chapter 12

Letting himself into the apartment, Derek felt exhausted. He wasn’t sure how he had expected to feel discovering what he could about Stiles, but this weird sense of emptiness wasn’t it. Out of habit, he put his coat onto the coat rack then turned around in the hallway, trying to sense – something.

“Are you here?” There was no response and he shook his head. “Of course you’re not here – Derek, you’re an asshole expecting him to be here when he’s just found his body and can get his life back”.

He wandered into the kitchen, pulling a bottle of Scotch out of the fridge. He was about to pour himself a hefty glass, then stopped. Without giving himself an opportunity to second-guess himself, he put the Scotch back into the fridge and instead pulled out several eggs. His cooking skills were rusty, but it didn’t take him too long to make himself a spinach and mushroom omelette, plating it with some withered salad from the fridge and pouring himself a glass of water.

He sat down at the dining table, about to put the glass down when he realised there wasn’t a coaster there. Refusing to acknowledge where the thought came from, he got back up again and grabbed a coaster from the set on the sideboard before sitting down to eat. It felt strange, but then he hadn’t cooked for himself and sat down at a table to eat for months now – his mother would be proud of him. He refused to consider who else might be proud of him.

There was a loud knock on the front door, and he frowned, trying to think who it would be. Shrugging, he got up from what was left of his meal and went to the door, pulling it open without checking the peephole. He was shocked to see Theo standing there in skin-tight jeans and a short, tight tee-shirt that showed off his hip-bones, and an unzipped hoodie hanging off his shoulders.

“I’m locked out and my cell isn’t picking up my Wi-Fi from outside the door. Is there any chance I could use yours?”

“Um, sure, yeah – come on in.” Stepping back, Derek let Theo enter the apartment. Moving to the sideboard, he rummaged through the various bits of paperwork before coming up with the Wi-Fi password so that Theo could use his broadband to search for and call for a locksmith.

Clearing his dishes and putting them into the dishwasher, Derek returned to the living room to find Theo standing in front of the large window.

“Doesn’t this location just about make Beacon Hills bearable?” Theo gave a small laugh. “Wait, you’re not from here are you – I wouldn’t want to insult your home town!”

“I am from Beacon Hills originally, but I’ve been living elsewhere for a while.”

“Right, right. Any chance I could have a drink – a beer maybe?” Derek nodded, grabbing one from the kitchen and presenting it to Theo who had stripped out of his hoodie and was now sprawled on the couch. “So, what’s with all the single men in town? Every time I meet a good-looking guy, he’s either straight or married! It’s tough out there.”

Derek nodded, not sure what else to say. It seemed as though Theo required minimal effort or contribution from Derek as he continued chatting away. “So, like, if I had to choose? If I had to choose. Wow. I guess I'd have to go with the midget.”

After 45 minutes of conversation that he didn’t follow, with Theo now lying flat out on the couch, his sneakers kicked off casually, Derek was even more confused.

“The locksmith – does he know to ring here? I mean – did you leave your cell number so he could let you know he was here?”

“I think so.” Theo stood up and stretched, his toned stomach right in Derek’s face. “Where’s your bathroom?”

“Um – here, let me show you.” Leading Theo to the hallway, Derek gestured in the direction of the bathroom, mesmerised by the movement of Theo’s slim hips as he slunk down the hallway. “It’s just to the left.”

“Thanks.” Theo gave him a smile over his shoulder, disappearing through the door. Derek closed his eyes, leaned back against the wall and bounced his head off it twice. Opening his eyes, he jumped. “STILES!”

“That’s my name – don’t wear it out!”

“That’s an old one – you’ve used that before! I – I didn’t think you were gonna come back. I thought you were going to stay with your body?”

“I was – I mean, that was the plan. But it’s terrible – that a-hole Jackson is trying to get my brother Scott to sign papers authorising permission to take me off of life support.”

“What? No – can they do that? They can’t do that!”

“I know – I said that. But – nobody could hear me. Not Scott, not Erica or Lyddie. And I – I guess I just wanted to talk to you.”

“Derek.” Theo’s voice rang out in the hallway and Stiles turned and gave Derek a look.

“Well, that didn’t take very long.”

“No. This is not what it looks like.” Derek held his hands to out to Stiles as though to ward off his suggestion. “He – he just kinda barged in! Said he was locked out of his apartment and needed to use my Wi-Fi to contact a locksmith.”

“No, no – you don’t have to explain. I get it.”

“Don’t say it like that – you don’t get anything! He’s just using the bathroom.”

“You know – his voice sounded like it came from the bedroom.”

“It did?”

They both turned and looked down the hallway at a heavy sound, and Derek’s mouth dropped open in shock when a pair of jeans came flying through the door to land with a thud on the hallway floor.

“Hey Derek – come here, I have something to show you.”

As they watched, the hoodie, tee-shirt, then the tiniest scarlet jockstrap followed the jeans to puddle in an untidy pile in the hallway.

“I had no idea that's – ” Finally recovering his voice, Derek tried to explain to Stiles.

“You had no idea that he was naked on your bed?”

“No! None whatsoever!” Stiles tilted his head, giving Derek an assessing look.

“You’re wondering what he looks like, aren’t you?”

“No, I’m not.” Stiles raised his eyebrows at Derek. “A little? Not enough to go look!” Stiles nodded.

“Okay, I’ll tell you what – I ‘ll go and do a little re-con for you – let you know if it’s worth the walk down the hallway.”

“Oh my God, please don’t!”

“Don’t worry so much – I’m a doctor, this is purely professional.”

“Stiles! There is _nothing_ professional about this!” Derek hissed as Stiles ignored him and walked down the hallway, half of his body disappearing through the wall as he peeked into the bedroom. “No, no no, no!”

“Will you relax?” Stiles' head appeared back into the hallway. “He’s got a tattoo on his ass.”

“Really?”

“It says _All aboard – groups welcome_.”

“It does not!” Stiles’ head disappeared through the wall again.

“It does – in fact, it says it in three languages that I can see. He’s obviously very cultural.”

“You know – if I didn’t know better, I’d say you sound jealous!” Stiles snapped back into the hallway, striding up to Derek.

“I do not.”

“You do.”

“Oh please!”

“Derek – are you talking to someone?” Theo appeared in the bedroom doorway, nothing but a towel wrapped very loosely around his hips. “Hey, what’s going on?”

(Eyes up top Derek.)

“Nothing.”

“Look, Derek – I’m sorry if I’m coming on a little too strong. That’s just kinda my style. And when you know a spark is there, you just know.” Theo walked down the hallway until he came to stand in front of Derek. “I hear you sometimes. Up here – all by yourself. And I just figured – maybe he’s lonely – like I get lonely, you know? Is it wrong for me to want to touch someone, to make a connection in some way?”

(Derek, just do it.)

“What?”

(Go ahead, be with him – it’s what you both want. And, just look at those abs – his body is almost as insane as yours.)

“What if that’s not what I want?”

“Derek – are you okay? Do you – wanna take some kind of medication first? It’s okay if you do – I know it can happen to older guys sometimes.”

(Derek, it’s okay. He’s extremely pretty and he’s right in front of you. I’m just in the way.) Stiles smiled at Derek, then disappeared in the direction of the front door.

“No, you’re not in the way! Stiles!”

“Um, it’s Theo – are you alright, man?” Theo stepped forward again, his hands coming to rest on Derek’s shoulders as the towel pooled around his feet. “Oops.”

* * *


	13. Chapter 13

Derek knew where Stiles had gone, making his way up to the rooftop space where he could see Stiles standing by the wall.

“Well, that was quick.”

“Haha! Nothing happened.”

“What did you say to him?”

“I said I was seeing someone. Which is – you know, true. Kinda.”

“What – you didn’t mention the person you’re seeing isn’t actually there?”

“Well, I didn’t mention that I was the only person who could see them – I thought he might find that a little confusing.”

Stiles nodded, still looking at the view. 

“Did you honestly tell him you were seeing someone?”

“Yeah.” Stiles finally turned around and leaned back until his butt was resting against the wall. Derek walked over to him and mirrored his position. “You know, I haven’t – haven’t really _been_ with anyone since – since Jennifer.“ Derek glanced at Stiles, but his face was in profile, still looking at the view. It was easier to get this out when Stiles wasn’t looking at him.

“She was cursing at her shoe – the heel had broken. And she just – she kinda sat down and put her hand on her head.”

“Cerebral haemorrhage?”

“That’s what they said. And – I couldn’t do _anything_ to help her. She was just – gone. Like one minute, she was cursing and complaining and the next – “

“Yeah.”

“I didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye.”

“So – what was she like? Your Jennifer?”

“Oh my God, she was just this giant pain in the ass – you would have **loved** her! She got on at me about everything – eating right, drinking too much, how shaggy my beard was looking! And the house – there were bras on the doorknobs everywhere, pantihose hanging up in the bathroom – it was like walking through streamers sometimes just using the bathroom.”

Stiles smiled sadly but didn’t comment, letting Derek speak. 

“She was _always_ leaving the car with no god-damn gas – like, **below** empty! It was like she was just incapable of filling the car up. And she kept messing up my entertainment system – she would just play with the remotes and press all kinds of buttons until I couldn’t find my games or watch any of the matches or do anything because she had snarled everything up. I mean – I’m so – **mad** just thinking about her! She was just – gone.”

“I’m sorry, Derek.” They stood in silence for a few minutes and Derek took the time to wipe away tears that he hadn’t realised he was shedding.

“Your brother really wouldn’t sign those papers, would he?”

“You know, I don’t know. I mean – Scotty always thought he knew what was right for me, always trying to tell me what to do. “ Stiles sighed. “It won’t really matter if I don’t wake up soon. My brain activity is decreasing slightly every day.”

“You know, maybe that’s not such a bad thing? You can be a bit of a smart-ass. It might just bring you down to the level of the rest of us humans!”

“You’re not dumb, Derek. Just a little lazy.” Stiles turned and looked Derek up and down. “Hot af, but lazy.”

“Thank you – I think.” Derek looked down at his hands. “I wasn’t always like this you know.”

“So, what were you like then?” 

Making a sudden decision, Derek smiled at Stiles. 

“Come on, I wanna show you something.”

* * *

The journey in the car went by surprisingly quickly, no doubt because Stiles spent a huge amount of time drooling over Derek’s car; then complaining about his choice of music, and finally asking _are we there yet?_ what felt like every five seconds.

“Where are you taking me? If you’re gonna go all axe murderer on me and try to hide the body, I gotta tell you your planning needs some work.”

“We’re here.” Derek steered the Camaro up the gravel driveway. 

“Where’s here?”

“It’s an estate – the guy who owns it is in Hawaii at this time of year. Danny does computer stuff for the government so he’s all over the place.”

“Are we trespassing?”

“No – besides, it’s not as though they can arrest you!”

“Point.”

“Don’t worry – we’re not going inside. Come round here – through this gate.” Leading Stiles towards the back of the house, Derek stepped to the side so that Stiles could get the full impact. 

The garden was in full bloom, an almost mad profusion of colour that assaulted both the eyes and the nose with the scent of the different flowers and plants. Stiles was walking along the path with his head whipping from side to side in an attempt to see everything at once, mouth agape. 

“Here it is. I remember you once said you love gardens.”

“What is this place?”

“I – I made this place. This is my work. I was a landscape architect – I had my own company for a while.”

“Derek, this is breath-taking, I mean – just – oh my God, Dude, this is amazing!” Stiles made his way to the small gazebo, hands trailing through the grasses that Derek had planted along the side of the path. “Derek – I have been here before.”

“What – do you know Danny?”

“No – I mean, I know this is gonna sound really strange but I _dreamed_ of this place! These flowers, everything. It is so beautiful. “ Stiles turned to look at Derek, eyes glinting with tears. “When things had been rough at the hospital when I’d lost a patient or the day had gone badly – I would curl up on the couch and dream of a place _just_ like this. A place where I could let it all go and just – be.”

Derek smiled, wishing he could take Stiles into his arms.

“I had no idea you were such an artist, Derek. It must be such a joy to create a place like this.”

“Yeah – yeah, it was. I lost my way after Jennifer – sold the business – couch surfed with relatives until I ended up here.”

“But you’re gonna do this again, right? Get back to creating places like this? The world needs places like this, Derek.”

“Yeah – I guess so. Yes.”

“Promise?”

“I do.”

* * *

“Who the hell's calling me?” Eyes crunchy with sleep, Derek grabbed his cell as the obnoxious ring-tone rang out. “Hello?”

“Derek – it’s Erica. Boyd’s Erica.”

“I know who you are, Erica – seriously, I know Boyd thinks I’ve lost the plot but I’m not that far gone!”

“Whatever! You are the luckiest man in the god-damn world – well, Beacon Hills at least!”

“Thank you.” Derek grabbed his glasses, trying desperately to wake himself up. The drive back last night had felt long and after the running around during the day, he had fallen directly into bed and slept like a log. “Okay, I’ll bite. Why am I the luckiest man in Beacon Hills?”

“Well apart from the sheer joy of having me as a friend, I have great news. The apartment is yours.”

“What?”

“And they’re willing to give you a nice _long_ lease! Aren’t I just the best?”

“How long a lease?”

“Long. Like _really_ long. And I’m gonna send it over and we can talk tomorrow.”

“Wait, wait! Erica – why are they giving me a long lease now?”

“Jesus, trust you to want to know all of the details! Remember I told you that the couple who were renting it out had some drama going on? Well, it was actually quite a tragedy – a terrible story. The tenant was in some kind of coma – which, you know, is what it is – but they’re gonna pull the plug.”

“What?”

“Yeah, but get this? They’re prepared to let you have that couch you’re so attached to – Derek? Are you still there?”

“Sorry, Erica – I gotta go. I’ll call you!” Hitting end call, Derek scrambled out of bed, shoving the sheets out of his way as he got tangled up. He rushed down the hallway to the living room where he saw Stiles lying on the sofa, looking chilled and relaxed.

“We gotta go talk to your brother!”

“Why? What are you gonna say to him?”

“I don’t know, but Stiles – he’s pulling the plug!”

* * *


	14. Chapter 14

”What are you gonna say to him?” Derek shook his head.

“I don’t know! What kind of dirt do you have on him?”

“Dirt?” Stiles frowned, trying to figure out what Derek meant. 

“Yeah, you know – stuff you would use as blackmail! Don’t try to tell me there isn’t any – I have siblings!”

“Um, okay – well his middle name is Rafael after his dad, but he refuses to acknowledge it. In third grade, he told everyone that his name was Han, as in Han Solo.”

Derek gave Stiles a disbelieving look.

“What else?”

“God, I don’t know! Oh wait – he’s lactose intolerant!”

“Stiles – the _only_ way this is gonna work is if I tell him something that only **you** would know!” Derek took the next turning, and Stiles appreciated the fact that he was trying to stay within the speed limit and not draw attention. “Something so intimate, so personal – “

“Oh, oh, I know! He French-kissed his ex-girlfriend Mal five minutes before his wedding to Allison!”

“ _Five_ minutes before the wedding? Yeah, that should work!”

“Nobody knows that!”

“You know, I think I like him already!”

“Derek!” Stiles scolded him. 

“What? Talk about taking your last chances!” 

Before Stiles could give the whole subject more thought, they arrived at Scott’s house. It was the work of a few moments to convince Scott to let him into the house, seeing Derek giving a ‘charming’ smile making Stiles want to laugh.

“So how did you know Stiles? You must have worked together – the Lord knows he wasn’t dating anyone!”

(How come **everyone** loves to rub that one in?)

“Actually, this is gonna be a little difficult to swallow – “ There was the clatter of footsteps, then Lydia and Erica came running into the kitchen shrieking. 

“Tea!”

(Oh my God, my nieces! They’re supposed to be at school!)

“Um – hi!”

“Would you like a cup of tea, sir?” Derek looked wildly at Stiles, obviously hoping for a helpful suggestion, but Stiles had nothing so all he could do was shrug.

“Well, yes, thank you, Madam.” Stiles followed as Derek allowed Lydia to tug him towards their small play-table, Stiles taking his customary seat as it gave him a little leg-room when it came to sitting on the uncomfortably small chair.

(Derek – abort mission. Don’t do this in front of them – you’ll freak them out.)

“Sorry – what were you saying? How did you know Stiles?”

(You better lie your ass off!)

“We – er, we worked together.”

(NO! We already know you can’t pull off the doctor thing! Make something up – quick!)

“I mean, I didn’t work _with_ him! We worked together – on my illness! I was a patient of his!” Stiles realised his niece was looking directly at him and had been following his quick conversation with Derek.

(Lyddie, can you see me?) Lydia didn’t answer, instead jumping up from her seat and heading into the kitchen. She came back clutching two large cookies, one of which she placed in front of Stiles.

“I was sick. I had meningitis – spiral meningitis.”

(There is no such disease as spiral meningitis!)

“Oh, I’m so sorry! Is that the charity you’re collecting for? You said at the front door you were working for a charity.”

“A charity? No, I’m sorry there’s been a misunderstanding – I wanted to talk to you about Stiles. Stiles – he believed in me, believed that I would recover when nobody else did. And – I just did.”

“That sounds just like him.” Scott gave Derek a curious look. “But why are you telling me all of this?”

“Stiles’ situation? I just wanted to say that – “

(Lyds – you know that I’m here don’t you?) His niece didn’t respond to him, but she did look directly at him when he spoke and Stiles felt a glimmer of hope. He tuned back in to Derek’s conversation with Scott that seemed to be going downhill rapidly.

“ – there are so many things beyond our comprehension, and you shouldn’t give up hope. Stiles could well bounce back from this and – “

“Listen, Derek was it? It’s very kind of you to say but – it’s too late.”

(Scott. Scott – what did you do?)

“I’ve already signed the papers.”

(“Scott – I am RIGHT HERE!)

“We’re terminating life support tomorrow at noon, while the girls are in school. I mean, the past three months have been so hard on them – on all of us to be honest.”

“Well, I can understand that – I mean, I really do. But I think you’re making a grave mistake here – because I really believe – “

“Honestly, it’s for the best. Really.” Scott sat down heavily on one of the kitchen stools. “This is what Stiles wanted. I mean, I spent my whole life once my Mom married his Dad thinking I knew what was best for him: where he should work, who he should date, what he should wear. I mean, the dude lived in plaid throughout High School, way past the grunge era. Heh, but, you know – this was the last thing he asked for. And for perhaps the first time in my life, I’m going to try and respect his wishes.

(Damn, Scott. You finally listen to me and its the one time I don’t want you to.)

Derek looked like he didn’t know what to say, but then a strange expression crossed his face.

(Derek – whatever you’re thinking – )

“Look, Scott, this is gonna sound _really_ strange to you, but – “

(No, no, no, no, no)

“ – the truth is, Stiles is here with us right now. He came here with me – he’s standing next to you and he’s been begging you to wait.” 

Scott’s eyes widened as he stared at Derek.

“Standing right next to me?”

“Right there.”

(Derek, I am _begging_ you to stop. You don’t know Scott – this is just not gonna work.)

“No, Stiles, let me do this. Look, I don’t know how or why, but somehow I can see your brother’s spirit. I know this is crazy – believe me, when it first started happening I thought I was losing my damned mind – but I can also talk to him. So, how about I just have him explain the whole thing to you because I am really bad with words, and I’ll act as translator. Okay?”

Scott looked at Derek for a few moments, before nodding. 

“Could you just hold on for a sec please?” He walked over to the girls and leaned down to speak to them. “Guess what girls? Tea party time is over – it’s time for Paw Patrol!! Yeah!! I’ll be right back.”

(Okay, Derek, maybe you were right and I was wrong!)

“Words I love to hear! I think I was actually getting through to him.”

(Yep! You’ll need to get him to the hospital.)

“Right – of course.”

(We’ll get him to rip those papers – )

Scott came back into the room screaming, holding his baseball bat like a weapon.

“Get the hell out of here, you sick freak!” Derek backed up quickly, tripping over one of the stools.

“You have **got** to listen to me!”

“Why the hell would I?”

(Scott, calm down – just calm down!)

“I swear to God, I will knock your head off – clean off your shoulders!”

(Tell him about Mal!)

“I know about Mal!”

Scott paused. “What?”

“I know what you and Mal did five minutes before your wedding! And I’ll tell everybody!”

“How the hell do you know that? Nobody knows that! Get out of here – just go!” Derek left quickly, Scott chasing him to the door. Stiles watched as his brother leaned back against the door, breathing heavily. Scott took a deep breath, then walked into the room where the girls were watching a DVD. 

“You kids okay?”

“Yeah, Dad – we’re cool.”

“Daddy?”

“Yeah, Lyddie?”

“Is Uncle Stiles gonna come back for more tea?”

“What?”

* * *


	15. Chapter 15

With Lydia refusing to say anything else despite Scott’s gentle questions, Stiles realised there was nothing further he could do and drifted out of the house. He could see Derek across the road, staring down at the view and he made his way over.

“You know, I don’t think your brother is a very spiritual person.” Stiles smiled sadly.

“He was just looking out for the kids – you know, you look kinda scary with that huge beard going on about seeing spirits!”

“You and this weird fascination with my beard.”

“You know, I don’t think I ever wanted kids? But I really wanted a couple of cats – maybe like Maine Coon cats, the ones that are a bit like dogs?”

“I think you would make a great Cat-Daddy.”

“Thanks, Derek.” Stiles sighed. “I guess I’ll never know now.”

“Come on, Stiles – we can’t give up now! There must be something else we can do?”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know – I could go to the hospital, I could talk to Melissa again. I could – “

“No, Derek.”

“ – talk to that asshole guy you were telling me about?”

“Who? Jackson? Hell no – just stop! They would have you in a straight-jacket so fast your head would spin.” Stiles shook his head. “There’s no way anyone’s gonna believe that I’m still here.”

“What about your niece – she saw you!”

“Oh yeah, that’s just great – my fate is in the hands of a four-year old genius who has approximately fifteen other imaginary friends.”

“There must be someone – wait, there _is_ someone else!” Derek went to grab Stiles’ hand then realised what he’d done. “Come on.” 

Stiles followed behind him, wondering where the hell this wild goose chase was taking them now.

* * *

“Kira.”

“Hairy dude!”

“Er, yeah – that’ll do!” Derek turned to look at Stiles, waiting for his approval. 

“The spirit’s with you, isn’t it? Like, Derek, you can’t be bringing that in here – Kitsune’s Korner is full of spirits that can get very territorial! What were you thinking!”

“I wanted to let you know – you were right, he’s alive!”

“Really? Oh, that is awesome!”

“Not so much – he’s in a coma. His family’s going to take him off life support.”

“Whoa, yeah, not so awesome.” Kira looked thoughtful, putting down her book and coming around the desk to stand looking directly at where Stiles was fidgeting. “So, what, you guys are socialising now?”

Derek blushed and Stiles smirked.

“We’ve – acclimated.”

“Oh so that’s what we’re calling it now? I can tell – you definitely seem to be more in alignment. And Derek – whatever you’ve been doing, your aura is so much clearer now. You’ve unburdened yourself.”

“Er – well, kinda – “

“And I’m sensing some pretty heavy-duty feelings coming towards you from our spirit friend here.”

“Really?”

“Yeah – in fact, it seems like he has some intense feelings going on – major red in the aura.”

(No I don’t.)

“Oh, it’s gone pink – he must be embarrassed! Sorry, Spirit-guy, no offence meant.”

(I am not embarrassed. Can we please focus here?)

“Okay, okay – keep your hair on straight! Kira, I need to know – “

(Ask her if there’s some sort of spell or chant or – “

“ – any magic to get his spirit back into his body?”

“Derek – you’re asking the wrong question.”

“What? How is that the wrong question?”

(I hate things like this – how are you meant to know what the right question is if people just tell you that you’re asking the wrong one?)

“Tetchy, isn’t he?”

“Why am I asking the wrong question?”

“Look, Derek – I have a gift. I didn’t ask for it and believe me, sometimes it is a real pain in the hiney. But I do. I can sense these things – spirits, whatever you want to call them. Why they’re hanging around here in the first place – that’s their unfinished business.”

“Do I have a gift?” Stiles burst into laughter just as Kira gave Derek a scornful look.

“You **definitely** don’t have it. I’ve never met such a null in my life – you are most definitely a civilian in spiritual matters.”

“Okay, you don’t have to laugh that hard, Stiles! Kira – if I don’t have it, then how is it that I can see her and talk to him but no one else can?”

“Exactly.”

“Exactly what?”

(She’s gone back to being cryptic. Why did I say I liked this one?)

“That’s the right question.”

* * *

“So – what the hell do you think she was talking about?” Back in the apartment, Stiles paced back and forth, making an effort to go around the furniture because he knew how much it bugged Derek when he walked through things. 

“I don’t know, but I feel like it’s right there in front of us. Like – we’ve got all of the pieces of the puzzle, we’re just not looking at them the right way.” Derek was slumped on the couch, arm over his face. “I just can’t seem to get a handle on it and it’s driving me insane. How do you solve a problem that shouldn’t exist in the first place?”

“You got me, dude. I was all about the logical when I was fully alive.”

“See, nothing seems impossible to me any more. I mean, think about it, Stiles. Why did I move into your apartment in the first place? I saw nicer places but there was something about this one that I just had to have.”

“Okay – not sure there’s any need to insult the apartment.”

“And why can I see you and talk to you when no one else can, including your family?” Derek jumped to his feet and joined Stiles in his pacing. “I mean, why was I in Moose’s _just_ when that guy collapsed? It all seems interrelated somehow but I can’t figure out the connecting piece.”

Derek stopped pacing and raced into the kitchen, coming back with the local newspaper. 

“What are you doing?”

“That Rosemary Preston lady – she’s a spiritualist or something – she’s playing in Beacon Hills tonight. Maybe she could help us? Or I could call her – “

Stiles came to a halt, seeing the picture frame on the dining table for the first time.

“Where did you get this?” He pointed to the picture when Derek turned to him. “It was just at the hospital.”

“Huh? Oh.” Derek flushed. “Yeah – I – I took it. I’m really sorry – that was such an invasion of privacy or something. I just – I wanted to have a picture of you. I didn’t think I was ever going to see you again so – I took it.”

“That’s – “

“I'm sorry.”

“No, don’t be sorry. That’s actually really nice.” Stiles looked down at the picture, unable to meet Derek’s gaze. “I really like that picture.”

“Yeah, I really liked it too.”

“I had just gotten my UCAT scores back – Universal Clinical Aptitude tests.” Derek stepped up next to Stiles, looking down at the photo. It was a picture of Stiles and Scott, both obviously drunk off their asses. Stiles was holding a piece of paper in his hand, one corner of it having just been set alight.

“Well, you must have done really well!”

“No – actually, I completely bombed! My scores were so low I couldn’t even get into correspondence school!” 

“And that’s a good thing?” Derek looked confused.

“Oh God, no! I know it sounds kinda crazy. It's just – I wanted to go back to the library and start studying again immediately. But Scott said no, that the only thing to do was to burn my scores and drink margaritas! Lots and lots of margaritas until I stopped caring what the number said.” 

“Well, I have to say – it looks like he was right!”

“Yeah – it’s funny af because the one time I completely fail at something, I probably had more fun than I’ve ever had in my life!”

“You look really happy.”

“I was. I mean – that is one time when I can completely remember how I felt and I felt so happy.”

“So why does that make you feel sad now?”

“Because what was I doing with the rest of my life? When I think about what my life was like before the accident – all I can remember is working! I didn’t spend enough time with Lyddie or Erica – Scott had to practically force me to come round for dinner. **Everyone** knows that I had no kind of life outside of the hospital.”

“Stiles – you saved lives.”

“Yeah – yeah, I did. And that’s important. But it’s almost like I saved my life – for later. It just never occurred to me that there might not _be_ a later.”

“Jesus, don’t say that! There’s still time. We’re gonna try and get hold of that Spiritualist and – “

“No – no more Derek. I don’t want to spend my last night on earth running around trying to fix a lifetime of mistakes.” Stiles looked Derek straight in the eye. “Or fighting my fate.”

“Okay. Then – “

“I want to do something with you.”

“Anything – anything you want Stiles! You want to drive to the beach? We can do that. Hop on a plane and see how far we can get before noon tomorrow? We can do that – well as far as my MasterCard will take us! Anywhere – anything at all.”

“There is something that I would like to do – as long as it’s not too weird for you, I mean.”

“When I said anything, Stiles – I meant it.”

* * *

Stiles hesitated by the side of the bed, watching as Derek lay down on his side, facing the middle.

“I am so god-damned bad at this, it’s embarrassing.”

Derek smiled. “What is it – are you nervous?”

“A little.” Stiles gave an embarrassed laugh.

“Why?”

“I don't know.”

“How can you be nervous when I can't even touch you?”

“I think I'm more nervous because you can't touch me. It almost feels like it means more.”

“Why? Why would you be more nervous?” Stiles shrugged, then taking a deep breath, he lay down on the bed until he was facing Derek, his head resting on what used to be his pillow.

“You know in the hospital when you touched my hand?”

“Yeah.” Derek’s voice was low. 

“I felt it. I mean, I didn’t just feel it as a tingle – it was like my spirit felt it. I don’t even know how. But I just – I find myself thinking that if you could ever really touch me – I mean, me with my spirit in there – I might wake up from all of this.”

Derek lifted his hand, palm up and waited for Stiles to place his palm against it. “I can almost feel that.”

“Me too.”

“Derek – I think I know what my unfinished business is.”

“Yeah?” Stiles nodded. “What?”

“You.”

* * *


	16. Chapter 16

”Stiles. Stiles?” Derek sat up, looking frantically around the bedroom.

“I’m right here.” Stiles appeared in the doorway.

“Oh thank God! I thought you were gone!” Derek grabbed his sneakers, tying his laces up quickly. “Suddenly I know exactly what I’m supposed to do. Because this time, I **can** do something.”

“Okay, someone woke up on the right side of the bed – what are you talking about?”

“Stiles – when we first met, I kept saying that you were dead. But it was more me than you that was dead – and just spending this time with you – you’ve brought me back to life.”

“That’s such a sweet thing to say, Derek, but – “

“So I’m going to save you.”

“Okay – but how exactly are you gonna do that?”

“I’m gonna steal your body.”

“Er, maybe you didn’t get _enough_ sleep! What are you thinking? You can’t do this!”

“Why the hell not?”

“Because you’ll go to jail, that’s why!”

“So what? If something happens to you – if they turn that life support off this afternoon, do you think I’ll care where I’ll be? At least I can buy us some more time, right?”

Stiles shook his head. “The things you’d have to know to pull something like this off – “

“You know them. So you can tell me. We’ve done it before.” Derek stood in front of Stiles, hope in his eyes. “Come on, Stiles. Live a little.”

“Jesus! Okay – you’re gonna need a van. And somebody with no morals.”

* * *

“Derek – what did you say we were moving again?” Derek turned to look at his cousin, Malia and smiled.

“Um, medical supplies.”

(You didn’t tell her? Derek – you have to! You know – she looks familiar to me.)

“She’s got one of those faces.”

“Who’s got one of those faces?”

“No one, never mind.”

(Derek – you cannot drag this poor woman into this with no warning!)

“Poor woman – Hah! Malia was practically dragged up by Coyotes – she has the moral compass of a feral cat!”

“Derek – is there something you want to tell me? Isaac told Talia that there was something strange going on with you. Peter said you were finally losing your marbles.”

“Thanks, Malia.”

“Are we in a hurry?”

“Yeah – it’s a one day sale on hospital beds. I’ve always wanted one and I don’t want the good stuff to be gone before we get there.”

“Oh great! Now you’re planning on being a bed-potato instead of a couch-potato!”

“Uncle Peter again, huh?” Malia nodded. 

(You have **got** to tell her!)

“Not yet.”

“Not yet – you know what? Derek – has your imaginary friend come out to play again?” Derek pulled neatly into a parking space and turned to Malia. 

“Just – follow me, okay?” Stiles directed them to the stores' department, and luck was with them as they weren’t stopped. 

(You’re gonna need a blood pressure cuff and a portable ventilator – that yellow thing, right there.) 

Derek grabbed whatever Stiles pointed at whilst Malia looked around the space suspiciously.

“Derek, I am starting to think that this is definitely not a sale of some sort.”

“Alright, fine. I knew you wouldn’t come if I told you.”

“Do I want to hear this? Will I need plausible deniability?”

“My imaginary friend is not imaginary, despite what Isaac might have told you and the family. He is the spirit of a guy in a coma upstairs who they’re about to take off life support. I need to get him somewhere safe.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“So, we’re body-snatching?”

(You should have told her.)

“She wouldn’t have believed me – Malia is the most black and white person I have ever come across.”

(Does she believe you now?)

“I needed to get her to the hospital!”

“Should I take you up to the psych ward? We could get them to call Isaac to come and see you.” Malia tried to look sympathetic and understanding. “Isaac always says there are people who can help.”

“There is no time. It’s 11.30 now and they’re flipping the switch at noon.”

“And this is important because?”

“Look, he’ll be **dead** in half an hour if we don’t get a move on!”

(Look, Derek, let me talk to her. Tell her I said I know this is a stretch.)

Derek gave a heavy sigh but then turned back to Malia.

“He’s standing right behind you and says he gets that this is a bit of a tall tale.”

“Okay, Derek, I’ll play. If your friend is standing right behind me, what am I doing now?” Stiles looked down at Malia’s hands. “Rock, paper or scissors?”

(Rock.)

“Rock.”

(Scissors.)

“Now scissors.”

(Rock again.)

“Rock again.”

(Hehe. She's flipping me off.)

“Are you flipping him the bird? You are – you’re flipping him the bird!”

“How the hell – ? You know what – sometimes people who are in the middle of a deep emotional trauma can have psychic moments. I’m sure I saw it on the Discovery channel.” Malia put her hand on Derek’s arm. “But even if he’s real, do you realise what you’re risking for this guy?”

“Yes.”

“Then – why?”

“Because I love him.” Derek looked slightly stunned at the words that had escaped his mouth, but then he turned to Stiles. “I do. I love him. I love you.”

(Christ – no one has ever said that to me.) Stiles wiped at his eyes. (Derek?)

“What?”

(Tell her thank you – from me.)

“Malia – we’re really grateful.”

“Hell, I’m not doing this for you.” With everything piled onto a gurney, they headed back towards the door.

“Then why?”

“Because, trust me, one day I’m gonna need help moving a body. And when that day comes, I don’t want to hear any shit or bellyaching from you. You’re just gonna pick up the shovel and dig. Capisce?” Derek nodded while Stiles tried to stop himself from laughing. 

Luck was with them as they made their way to the third floor and into Stiles’ room, where nothing seemed to have changed. It had nothing to do with their appearance because even in their white coats, neither Derek or Malia looked like they belonged as hospital staff. 

(Okay, get me onto the gurney, quick.)

“Holy shit, Derek!”

“I know – he’s cute, right?”

(Really nice of both of you, but we need to get a move on.)

“No, that’s not it. This is him. This is the guy I set you up with – the guy you stood up that night.”

“What night? Wait – I was going to meet _Stiles_?”

“And he didn’t make it either – cos he was in an accident!”

“It was you.”

(Is that it – is that why? I was supposed to meet you?)

“Malia – how did you know him?”

“I’m – I’m friends with his brother. From way back.”

(Holy shit, I **knew** I knew her – this is Mal!)

“Malia is MAL?!”

(She had her hair shaved at the sides back then, heavier make up but yeah – this is Mal.)

“What did you – no one has called me Mal since college!”

“ _You’re_ the one that frenched Scott literally just before his wedding?!”

“How the hell did you know that, Derek?!”

“I told you – Stiles!”

“Oh my God – he really is here!”

“I **told** you!”

“I know you did, but I didn’t believe you – I was attempting to humour you so that you didn’t suffer a complete psychic breakdown or something.” Malia turned back to Stiles’ body. “Quick, get him onto the gurney – I don’t want them accidentally killing Scott’s brother!”

With care, Derek and Malia manoeuvred Stiles’ body onto the gurney, bringing tubes and everything along with it. They heard a noise outside, so Stiles stuck his head through the door. 

(Shit – that’s Jackson!)

“Well, he’s fifteen minutes early! Is he eager to kill you or something?” Stiles shrugged, then shoved his head through the wall again. 

“As soon as the brother shows up, we’re ready. Okay. Bye.”

(He’s coming in – Derek, do something!) Derek stepped to the door, walking out just as Jackson was about to walk in. (Be careful – despite being an a-hole, he’s smart.)

“Dr Whittemore?”

“Yes?”

“Well, hi – I’m Derek Hale.”

(Buy some time.) Derek looked hunted. (Tell him you’re a doctor.)

“I’m a doctor.”

“Okay.”

(You’re a specialist consultant from PAO Medical)

“I’m a specialist consultant – from PAO Medical.”

(Dr Finstock sent me down to do a final consultation.)

“Finstock sent me down – just to do a final consultation.”

“I haven’t received written or verbal confirmation of this.”

“Really? There’s new evidence – that full functionality can be restored. So we need to run some tests.”

“Where’s your team?”

“My team? My team is downstairs – they’ll be on their way up shortly.” Stiles nodded encouragingly to Derek. “They have the signed order from Dr Finstock.”

“This is most unusual – this is the first I’ve heard of it.” Jackson looked Derek up and down, eyebrow rising as he took in the dirty sneakers. “You don’t mind if I just check this with Dr Finstock, right?” 

“No, you go right ahead.”

“Oh I don’t need to go anywhere – I’ll just give him a call.” Taking his cell out of his pocket, Jackson began scrolling through the menus. 

Before Stiles could say anything, Derek muttered “fuck it” and decked Jackson with one punch, just as Malia began pulling the gurney out of the room.

“Jesus, Derek, if you’re not careful, you’re gonna have more felonies than I do!” 

“I’m just not convincing as a doctor!”

“No shit – I’ve been telling you that since we were kids!”

“Not the time, Malia!” They moved the gurney down the corridor at a fast walk and Stiles looked round just before they turned a corner. Jackson had come round and was on his cell, no doubt calling hospital security.

(Okay, we may need to move a little faster – no jostling, but faster people please!)

“Head for the elevator, Malia!” Stiles looked both ways down the corridors as they waited for the elevator to turn up, seeing Scott come around the corner with Melissa just as the elevator arrived. Inside there was a security guard who grabbed Malia. The doors closed before Derek could do anything but stare at his cousin. From behind them, someone shouted “STOP”.

Thinking quickly, Derek tugged the gurney around and began to push it down the nearest corridor, coming to a halt in the space in front of the nurses’ station. 

(Shit, Derek!)

“Stiles – I’m so sorry – “

(Derek – my breathing tube has gone – it must have fallen into the elevator or something.)

“What? No!” Derek looked around frantically. “Stiles – what can I do?”

(Nothing – it’s too late. It’s happening.)

“What’s happening?”

(It’s strong.)

“Be stronger!”

(Something’s pulling me away.)

“No – Stiles, you have to stay with me!”

“GOT YA!” A burly security guard slammed into Derek, knocking him away from the gurney. 

“STILES!”

(Derek – I’m sorry.) Stiles could feel himself fading in and out – the sounds around him becoming harder and harder to hear. 

“Jesus, will someone please help him?” Derek was struggling with the security guard, shouting at Scott and Melissa. 

“Someone get me a sedative to give this guy.” Jackson had made his way to the small crowd, blood trickling from his nose. Stiles felt a small sense of satisfaction before there was another ‘tug’ and he looked down, seeing his hands had become almost transparent. 

(Derek, stop fighting, please. Look, I just wanted to say – ) There was a long beeping noise and suddenly Stiles felt heavy and weighted down and he couldn’t see Derek any more.

* * *


	17. Chapter 17

Derek wrenched himself out of the grip of the security guard, rushing over to the gurney. There was chaos all around him, but all he could see was Stiles. 

“Stiles – please don’t leave me!” He leaned down, pressing his lips to Stiles’ cold ones, feeling like his heart was breaking. 

The machine gave another beep, then another, and Derek looked up, realising that the monitor seemed to be registering a heartbeat. 

“What’s going on?”

“That’s not possible!” Derek was pushed to one side as Melissa moved past him, grabbing Stiles’ hand and taking his pulse. Jackson was stood to one side, holding what Derek assumed was the sedative that had been meant for him. “That’s not possible.”

“Stiles? Stiles – can you hear me?” Stiles gave a little cough, and Scott rushed forward. 

“Stiles – it’s me, Scotty! Can you hear me? Open your eyes, buddy.” Stiles turned his head back and forth before opening his eyes slowly. “Christ, I can’t believe we almost let you go! Stiles – it’s me, Scott.”

“Scotty!” Stiles tried to sit up, falling back weakly onto the pillows. “Whoa, dude, I think I hit my head.”

Unable to hold back any longer, Derek moved to the side of the gurney, grateful when Scott nodded at him, turning to the security guard and saying “It’s okay.”

“Hey.”

“Um – hello.”

“It’s me.” Stiles looked up at Derek, confusion in his eyes and written all over his face.

“I’m sorry, I don’t – Scotty? Who – “

“Stiles – this is Derek. You don’t remember Derek?” 

“The apartment? The rooftop? Do you remember the garden?” Stiles shook his head, pulling back his hand when Derek tried to reach for it. 

“I’m so sorry, Derek – maybe – “

“No, it’s fine – honestly. I’m just – glad he’s okay.” He forced himself to step back, watching as various medical professionals began checking machines before moving Stiles back towards his room. When he couldn’t see him any more, Derek turned and walked out of the hospital.

* * *

Although Melissa and Finstock were pleased with his rate of recovery, Stiles found the whole thing frustrating for so many reasons. He was living with Scott, which was cool because he got to spend time with Lydia and Erica every day – he even got to hear about a weird little tea party he’d allegedly had with Lydia while he was ‘all faded’ but it didn’t ring any bells at all. The entire three months that he’d been in a coma were a complete blank, which made sense since he’d almost been brain-dead. It wasn’t like he’d been gallivanting around Beacon Hills, right?

But he kept experiencing weird feelings of deja vu for things that he really shouldn’t have. He found himself staring into a book-store window one Saturday, wondering why it seemed so familiar when he knew that he’d never been into somewhere called ‘Kitsune’s Korner’ in his life. The goth/hippie girl inside had waved at him, but as he’d never seen her before either, he just smiled politely and walked away.

As part of his physical therapy, he was meant to take regular walks and he found himself standing outside Moose’s time and time again. He’d done it before – it used to be one of his favourite places to stop and people-watch before the accident, even if he’d never actually gone inside. But now he found himself knowing the aromas of some of their specials, the colour of the interior and recalling weird emergency medical procedures, so he tried not to walk that way any more. 

He was pleased to find that after six weeks, he was cleared to live alone. He loved Scott, but their house was always so loud, and now that Allison was back from her latest tournament, he felt that it was time to go home.

“We only rented it for a month – we were lucky to even get that! Most people didn’t want to rent somewhere on a month to month basis.”

“No that’s cool, Scott. Thank you.” Stiles wandered around the apartment, aware of a sense of emptiness but not sure why. Everything looked the same but – 

“Did you move something?”

“Nope – not that I can recall.” Allison came out of the kitchen, folding a brown paper bag carefully. 

“I just put some basics in the cupboards – just some herbal tea, bread, that kind of thing.” She smiled. “Scott’s worried you’ll starve.”

“Well, he’s never been good at cooking! And he’s still recovering.”

“Scott – seriously, I’m fine! Thank you guys for taking care of me, but its definitely time to return home.”

“Well, you could come back to ours tonight – move back here over the weekend.”

“Scott! Stop being such a worry-wart – I’m gonna be fine.”

“What are you looking for?”

“It’s funny – I just have this strange feeling, like – something’s missing.”

“Seriously, dude, everything’s here just like you left it. Erica did a full inventory when the tenant moved out and nothing’s missing.” Scott took hold of Stiles’ arm. “You sure you’re gonna be okay?”

Stiles shook off the funny mood, smiling at his brother.

“Yeah – I’m gonna be good. I will see you guys on Saturday as planned.”

“You better – the girls want to bake for you.”

“Well that sounds like a good reason to be busy – joking, joking – I’ll be there!” Letting Allison and Scott out, Stiles stood in the hallway for a moment before heading to the kitchen to make himself a cup of herbal tea. Grabbing a coaster from the sideboard, he moved to the couch and was about to put down the cup when he saw a ring on the table. He put the coaster down next to it, then the cup of tea, before tracing the water-mark with his finger-tip. It felt important but he couldn’t think why. 

Scowling at the strange thoughts rushing through his head, he decided to visit the rooftop – he always felt relaxed up there. As he climbed the stairs, he caught the smell of fresh flowers and he found himself walking a bit quicker. As he got to the top, he found himself surrounded by the most beautiful garden. Everywhere he looked, there was a profusion of colour and scents, a beautiful path laid that meandered through the flowers leading to a small gazebo. By the wall he normally stood at to look over the skyline, he could see a tall figure of a man, busily moving earth into a plant pot. He walked over slowly, feeling like he had done something like this before.

“Hello.”

“Hi. Sorry – don’t worry, I’m pretty much finished.”

“You – “

“I just wanted you to have your garden.” The man had dark hair and a neatly trimmed beard, pale green eyes contrasting sharply with his tanned face. He smiled at Stiles and Stiles smiled back, feeling himself blushing. 

“It’s beautiful – looks like something I dreamed about once.” He looked around once again, admiring the symphony of colours. “How did you get up here?”

“Ah – I may have hung on to my key when I left.”

“You were the tenant.” The guy nodded. 

“Look, the last thing I want to do is scare you. I’ll leave you to it – there’s a couple of chairs over there if you need to sit down and rest. You get a good view from them.”

“Thank you.” Stiles watched as the guy headed towards the stairs, something within wanting to stop him from leaving.

“Goodbye, Stiles.”

”Wait.”

“Yeah?” 

“Um, the key. I need the key back.” 

“Oh, right.” The man looked sad, but walked back towards Stiles, digging into his pocket and pulling out a key. 

“How do I know you?”

“Maybe in those dreams you had about the garden.” Stiles held out his hand and the guy placed the key into it, their fingers touching and sending a tingle up Stiles’ arm. “Fuck it.”

Stiles found himself hauled into strong arms, his lips possessed by – Derek’s! It was Derek! He threw his arms around Derek’s neck, holding him tight as he returned the kiss with enthusiasm.

“It wasn’t a dream.”

“No. It wasn’t a dream.”

“Derek – I forgot you! I’m so sorry!”

“Don’t apologise – it wasn’t your fault.”

“That must have hurt so damned much!” Stiles traced Derek’s cheekbone, relishing the ability to touch him. 

“It did. But I just poured all that feeling into your garden – I think it turned out okay, don’t you?”

“It’s beautiful – like, really stunning! How can I ever thank you? For everything you did for me – for this? Derek – I – “

“Hey, no rush. And if you want to repay me, I have an appointment this afternoon to see some Maine Coon kittens. Wanna come with me?” 

Stiles sniffed, then smiled. “Yeah – that would be awesome.” Accepting the hand Derek held out to him, Stiles turned towards the apartment. 

“By the way, what _was_ your fascination with my beard?”

“Oh, that! I always wondered if it was soft to touch – whether kissing you would lead to beard burn!” 

“Ah, I see!! So, verdict?”

“Dude, I can’t tell from just one kiss – we’re gonna have to do **lots** of experiments before I can reach any conclusions!!” Derek’s easy laughter made Stiles smile as he happily followed him.

* * *

fin

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well having rewatched the movie today, I found myself completely inspired and wrote just over five chapters! so here it is in it's entirety! I hope you enjoy reading, and thank you to those who took a chance while it was a WiP. 
> 
> Also, huge thanks for all the kudos and comments - they mean a lot to me and help feed the muse! 
> 
> See you with the next story!  
> Skar  
> x
> 
> * * *


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